Kurtbastian One-Shots from Tumblr
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: These one-shots represent my attempt to spread the Kurtbastian love one misguided story at a time. Each individual story will have its own rating and warnings. They are mostly based off of anon prompts I received. Some are sweet and family oriented, some are smut, some are supernatural. Take a peek and give it a shot :) Kurt H. and Sebastian S.
1. It's Not Right, but It's Okay

**A/N:** _Anon prompt 'Kurt and Sebastian break an important piece of furniture while having sex'. 1,084 words. Warning for mentions of oral sex._

"Fuck, Sebastian!" Kurt screamed, tossing throw pillows and blankets aside. He stomped around the sofa, surveying the damage. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"If I recall, that's what got us into this mess to begin with," Sebastian teased, watching as Kurt's fit spiraled into a full-blown episode.

"Fuck you, Sebastian!" Kurt barked. "I'm serious! My dad's going to be here any minute! What are we going to do?"

"We'll just hide it, like we did last time," Sebastian suggested.

Kurt huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Last time it was the bed," Kurt argued. "My dad didn't see the bed. This is the fucking couch!"

"Well, don't get upset at me," Sebastian said, putting up his hands in defense. "You were the one with the bright idea to fuck my face an hour before your dad was going to get here."

Kurt turned steely eyes on his boyfriend, glaring daggers in his direction.

"Not…that I'm complaining, of course," Sebastian added.

"Yeah, well, you're the one who insisted on the couch instead of the bed," Kurt retorted. "It's a futon, for fuck's sake! It's not to meant to take that kind of stress!"

"Neither are you, apparently, and by the way…" Sebastian grabbed Kurt by the hips and pulled him towards him, rutting against him, "…you're going to need to tone down the cursing if you don't want us breaking another piece of furniture before he gets here."

"Turn it off, Smythe," Kurt said, smirking as Sebastian pressed his erection against Kurt's hip. "We have to save this futon."

"Ugh! Can't we just toss it?" Sebastian groaned.

"We can't! He bought it for us. He'll notice if it's gone."

Sebastian sighed, taking a moment to consider the forgone futon.

"Well, if the leg had broken off, we could just cut the other ones to make it level," Sebastian contemplated.

"Thank you for telling me what we can't do, genius," Kurt snapped. "But it's cracked down the middle."

"Kurt! We can't fix this. Just tell him the truth."

"And what truth is that, Sebastian? That it broke because I was bouncing on your face with my dick in your mouth?"

"See," Sebastian said, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist, "when you put it like that, it doesn't sound so bad."

Sebastian wanted to laugh, but Kurt was beside himself trying to come up with a solution. He got down on his hands and knees, grimacing when the knees of his Louis Vuitton jeans touched the dusty wood floor.

"I don't need my father knowing I have sex," Kurt muttered, examining the damage to the underside of the futon frame.

"I'm more than 50% sure your dad already knows." Sebastian took a moment to enjoy the view of Kurt's pert, tight ass wiggling as he crawled across the floor.

"If we get a bunch of books and stuff and lodge them under the frame, maybe it will hold till he leaves," Kurt rattled off, focusing on the task at hand instead of Sebastian's witty comments.

Sebastian could have helped, but he opted instead to watch Kurt struggle to put his plan into action. The first few items Kurt chose for his job were logical – a few spare cinder blocks from those few weeks they spent living with a broken bed, and some long boards left over from Kurt's DIY reclaimed wood table project. In the end, he went to Pottery Barn and bought a brand new vintage-looking table. After he constructed a ramshackle saw horse, Kurt realized his tiny structure didn't quite reach the underside of the frame, and he panicked. He collected up every large book he could find to wedge underneath. With the help of a few oversized blankets, the futon looked passable…as long as no one tried to sit on it.

Kurt looked at his handiwork and felt sick to his stomach.

"He's going to know," Kurt rambled. "He's going to see it, and he's going to know I broke it. He's going to know I was having sex of his couch and broke it."

Sebastian shook his head, taking Kurt in his arms. He rubbed soothing circles into Kurt's back, trying hard to calm his anxious boyfriend.

"Look," he said, sounding calm and reassuring, "we're all adults here. If he notices the couch, we'll just tell him that we broke it…the two of us. We don't have to go into how, we'll just be straight with him. Alright?"

Kurt nodded, taking a deep, cleansing breath.

"Alright," he repeated. He leaned up and kissed Sebastian on the cheek. "Thank you."

"Hey," Sebastian said with a sly crooked grin on his lips, "that's what I'm here for."

A few loud raps on the door interrupted their moment of calm, but Kurt was ready to face his dad, knowing that Sebastian was by his side. Kurt slid the loft door open.

"Hey, buddy!"

Burt wrapped his arms around his son, squeezing him tight.

"Dad!" Kurt exclaimed, happy to see his father now that the anxiety of the broken couch was behind him. "I missed you!"

"Well, you know, maybe you could get on a plane and come see your old man every once in a while."

Burt looked past Kurt's shoulder and saw Sebastian standing awkwardly behind them. Burt walked past Kurt and took Sebastian in his arms, patting him on the back roughly.

"Hey, kiddo!" he said, greeting the young man he knew would someday be his son-in-law.

"Hey, Burt." Sebastian hugged Burt, genuinely happy to see him. Sebastian in particular had been looking forward to Burt's visit. He had a lot to discuss with Burt on this trip. "How was your flight?"

"Eh, you know. Long, boring, cramped. I'm beat, I'll tell you what." Burt picked up his duffel and tossed it on the futon. The couch immediately slid to one side, complaining loudly, then broke in two. Sebastian looked at Burt. Burt looked at Kurt. Kurt looked at Sebastian with pleading eyes. Here was Sebastian's chance to make good on his promise.

Sebastian took a deep breath and cleared his throat, taking in Burt's stunned expression. Sebastian could tell by the unamused look in his eyes that Burt had a pretty accurate suspicion as to how the couch broke. Those blue eyes, so much like Kurt's, stared at Sebastian, demanding an explanation.

"He did it," Sebastian said quickly, pointing at his boyfriend. Kurt's jaw dropped to his knees as he watched Sebastian grab the duffel and hurry off to their bedroom, closing the door behind him.


	2. As Long As We're Together

**A/N:** _Here's a one-shot for the anon prompt 'water'. Kurt and Sebastian meet during summer vacation on the beach as children, and start a relationship. Eventually, they fall in love. But are they too different to be together? It's a little different, but I hope you like what I did with it. Romance, fluff, with one NC17 moment. _

"So, what's your favorite color?" Sebastian asked, jabbing the hard-packed sand with the edge of his shovel.

Kurt bit his lip, looking up and down the beach.

"Okay," he said, pointing out to where the ocean stretched into the horizon. "Do you see that shade of blue out there? It's not exactly the water, and it's not exactly the sky?"

Sebastian scooched closed to Kurt to try and see what he saw.

"Do you mean, that blue that shimmers with just a little bit of silver?"

"Yup." Kurt confirmed with a nod of his head. It's the color that's made when the sky touches the water.

Sebastian giggled, looking back down at his shovel as he continued to dig into the sand, hiding the flush that rose to his cheeks.

"It's the same color as your eyes," Sebastian said quietly, careful not to look back at his new friend.

Kurt turned his head in surprise.

"Really?" Kurt said. He smiled a little bashfully. "I didn't know that."

Sebastian nodded, trying to look disinterested.

"Can you guess my favorite color?" Sebastian asked, looking up at Kurt through the sandy bangs that fell in his face. Kurt examined the boy from head to toe. He wore red boat shoes. His socks were white with red stripes. His red denim shorts matched his red windbreaker perfectly. He fidgeted, shoveling wet sand with his red shovel into his red bucket.

"Uh…red?" Kurt ventured.

"Yeah," Sebastian said, his jaw dropping a bit in awe. "How'd you guess?"

Kurt shrugged.

"Sebastian!" A woman walked onto the beach, scanning the shoreline with her hand shielding her eyes. Kurt fled behind the safety of some large, black rocks jutting up from the sand. When she turned, she caught sight of her son building sand castles just out of reach of the waves. "Sebastian! It's time to go!"

"Come on, Kurt!" Sebastian said, beckoning with a wave of his hand. "Come meet my mom."

"I…I can't." Kurt stayed close to the rocks, trying to make himself smaller and unnoticeable. "My dad…he wouldn't like it."

"Oh." Sebastian's face fell, his bright smile slipping. "Well, when will I see you again? We're leaving the beach house tonight."

Kurt's own face fell.

"Well, I live not far from here," Kurt said. "I guess…will I see you next summer?"

"Yeah." Sebastian nodded glumly. "That's an awfully long time."

Kurt didn't want to cry, but he had never had a real friend, and he felt like he was losing the only one he would ever have.

"You won't forget me?" Kurt asked.

Sebastian held up his pinkie and tried to smile.

"Pinkie promise I won't…if you don't forget me."

Kurt linked pinkies with the boy and offered a sad smile back.

"I won't forget you, Sebastian. I promise."

* * *

"So, there I was, running down the field, my ankle screaming in agony when I saw my chance…" Sebastian bounced on the balls of his feet, recreating the epic, game winning goal while Kurt sat in the sand, fascinated by Sebastian's story. "That fool of a goalie thought I was going to shoot to the left, but then I faked him out and shot to the right and…"

"Score!" Kurt cheered, laughing, with his hands thrown triumphantly in the air. "Wow! I wish I had been there to see it!"

"Yeah," Sebastian agreed, plopping down beside his friend. Sebastian picked up a handful of stones and started throwing them absentmindedly into the ocean. "After, there was this big party, with music, and dancing…and girls…"

"Girls?" Kurt's eyes opened wide. In the last six summers, Kurt had never heard Sebastian mention girls. Kurt had quietly hoped that Sebastian wasn't interested in girls, but he knew that the chances of a handsome boy like Sebastian, with his piercing green eyes, his increasingly muscular build, and his devil-may-care attitude, being interested in someone like him was unrealistic.

"Yeah." Sebastian didn't look at Kurt while he spoke, just followed the trail of the stones as they skipped across the water.

"Well…uh…was there anyone…you know…in particular…you liked?" Kurt asked, trying to sound unconcerned as he picked up his own handful of stones and started tossing them in the water.

"There was this one girl," Sebastian started. Kurt noticed the next stone that left Sebastian's hands didn't skip. Instead, it landed in the water with a plop and sank straight to the bottom. "She's pretty…blonde…all the boys like her. She developed _really_ early…"

Kurt nodded while he listened, gripping on to one of the stones in his hand until he thought his skin would bleed.

"She wanted to kiss me." Sebastian turned to look at Kurt, taking in his profile in the light of the setting sun. Sebastian swallowed hard, a little confused by how he felt for his beautiful, elegant friend, who looked like he would be just as much at home in Sebastian's rich, gated neighborhood, in some of the finest houses in Ohio, as he did sitting on this quiet beach.

"Did you kiss her?" Kurt finally turned to look at Sebastian, sighing in despair at the thought of Sebastian's plump, rosy lips kissing some over-developed preteen tart.

"No," Sebastian admitted.

Kurt's heart leapt in his chest, but he fought the urge to cheer, to laugh, to let Sebastian know how he felt.

"Why not?" he said instead.

"Because…because I didn't want to." Sebastian's answer was so simple, but Kurt could tell there was so much more behind it…so much he was leaving unsaid.

"Oh." Kurt's answer felt the same.

Sebastian moved closer to Kurt, looking out at the darkening water before he spoke again.

"Would it be weird," Sebastian said, his voice quivering slightly, "if I wanted to kiss you instead?"

Kurt took a sharp intake of breath and held it, barely believing that this moment was real.

Sebastian turned to face Kurt when Kurt took too long to answer.

"No," Kurt said quietly, but shaking his head for emphasis. "No…I don't think it's weird."

Sebastian and Kurt didn't move for a long time, staring deeply into each others' eyes, almost daring the other to lean in first. But a moment came when kissing each other simply seemed the only option, and both boys moved together slowly. Sebastian tilted his head to the right, keeping his eyes locked on his friend, wondering if he would balk, and turn away. Kurt was filled with so much joy that he knew that the moment Sebastian's lips touched his, his head would simply explode. The sun barely glowed over the calm horizon when Sebastian's lips finally met Kurt's. Sebastian's lips slid slowly against Kurt's, just barely separating to accommodate Kurt's mouth. Kurt felt his cheeks glow red and wondered if Sebastian had thought about this moment as much as he had.

Kurt didn't want Sebastian to pull away. He didn't want the beautiful moment to end, just like their summer together was quickly ending. But all moments pass away, good and bad. Sebastian looked into Kurt's face, his smile warm, his eyes shining in what was left of the sunlight reflecting off the water.

"That was…nice…" he said, straightening up and returning back to his spot.

Kurt sighed. "It was."

Sebastian turned his face to the water and watched the light creep away.

Kurt couldn't turn away.

"Sebastian?"

"Yeah, Kurt?"

"I'm going to miss you."

Sebastian reached an arm around Kurt's shoulder and pulled him close, shifting to let Kurt rest his head on his shoulder.

"I'm going to miss you, too."

* * *

"Sebastian!" Kurt moaned when eager lips latched onto his neck and sucked mercilessly. "Sebastian! We can't do this."

Sebastian ran his hands down Kurt's sides, traveling lower, barely asking for permission to be bold. Kurt grabbed Sebastian's hands quickly before he went too far.

"Don't worry," Sebastian whispered against Kurt's heated flesh. "No one's going to see."

"No, Sebastian," Kurt whined, trying to squirm away. "I mean, we can't do this."

"Come on, Kurt," Sebastian pleaded, getting his hands free just to have them blocked again. "I've been a good boy. I'm seventeen. I graduate high school next year. I don't want to go to college a virgin."

Kurt gasped, shoving at Sebastian hard, pushing him on his back in the sand.

"So that's what this is about?" Kurt said, folding his arms over his chest. He held himself tight, shivering with anger and humiliation. "Not because I'm special? Just so you can get this out of the way?"

"You _are_ special," Sebastian sighed in frustration, trying to ignore his throbbing erection long enough to placate his friend. "I waited for you. All year I waited for you!"

Kurt frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean you waited?" Kurt asked, hoping for an answer more romantic than what he had heard so far.

"Don't you think I had offers?" Sebastian argued. "Guys in my school – gay, straight – were lining up to try and get with me, but I waited. I waited for you." He put his hands on his hips and shook his head with a condescending laugh. "I was such an idiot to come here this summer."

Kurt's eyes went wide, his face paler than Sebastian had ever seen. He felt repulsive.

"What do you mean?" Kurt whispered, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"My parents wanted to take me to Paris this summer, Kurt," Sebastian said. "But I said no. I said I wanted to come here, and they went without me. Now here I am, trapped here for the summer, when I could have been in Paris."

"Well, you've only been here a few hours. Maybe you can call them back. Tell them you changed your mind. I'm sure they'll have no problem getting you a ticket," Kurt spat out sarcastically. Kurt didn't care that tears had started to run down his cheeks. He had only cried in front of Sebastian once – when his father had died. Kurt remembered it as the worst summer of his life. Sebastian had sat on the beach with Kurt every night, watching the sun set, their arms wrapped around each other, while Kurt cried until there were no tears left. He swore he would never cry in front of Sebastian again.

Kurt _wanted_ to cry. He wanted the tears to fall and never stop. He wanted to make Sebastian uncomfortable. Let Sebastian see them. Let Sebastian know he caused them.

Sebastian barely looked repentant. They had fought before, but this was different. Kurt had never seen Sebastian's eyes look so cold and cruel. Sebastian came up close to Kurt, a calculating smirk on his usually gorgeous face.

"You know," he whispered into Kurt's ear. "That sounds like an excellent idea."

Sebastian left Kurt on the beach. He walked away from where Kurt sat within reach of the water, looking out at the ocean, his shoulders trembling with sobs. Sebastian turned back to look at his friend, his stomach twisting with revulsion, furious with himself for how he acted but too far gone to apologize. He started up the beach, but something tugged at him; a feeling that one of the few good things in his life was ending.

It felt too much like good-bye.

Sebastian turned back around, hoping he could figure out something to say that would make everything all right again.

But Kurt was gone.

* * *

"Sebastian! No! I…I can't. This will never work. You know it won't."

Kurt buried his head in his hands so he wouldn't have to see the beautiful ring Sebastian held beneath his nose, or the look of love and hope glowing in his green eyes.

Sebastian heard Kurt's words, but he refused to accept no for an answer. He took Kurt's hand and pried it from his face, trying to catch a glimpse of those silver-blue eyes that had captured his imagination so long ago, when Sebastian was seven and Kurt was six, and everything seemed simple – life, friendship, happiness, and love. It was out there for them; Sebastian knew it. Even if it didn't exist anywhere else in the world, it was there for them on that beach. It had blossomed every summer, even after that one horrible moment when Sebastian left and didn't come back…not for six long years.

"Tell me you don't love me," Sebastian said, holding Kurt's hand over his heart. "Tell me you haven't thought about me every day that we've been apart. Tell me you didn't come up to this beach every summer, hoping I'd be here, and I'll leave now. I'll leave and never come back."

Kurt's eyes tried to focus past Sebastian, but when they did they fell back on the platinum ring, three perfect diamonds winking at Kurt in the setting sun. Kurt sighed.

"But we're so different," Kurt said with regret. "So much more now than we used to be."

"I don't think so," Sebastian countered. "I don't believe that at all."

"But, you have dreams," Kurt argued. "Big dreams. Dreams you deserve. Dreams I can't be a part of."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, kissing Kurt gently on the lips before he had a chance to turn away.

"The biggest dream I have, Kurt, has you in it."

Kurt dropped his hand from his face, looking at Sebastian with the full force of both prismatic eyes, needing to find some way to object, to push Sebastian away. But the more Sebastian pressed his lips to Kurt's, the more he ran his fingertips lightly over Kurt's shoulders and up the nape of his neck, the more he whispered, "Kurt, I love you. Marry me", the more Kurt's resolve started to slip. Suddenly, Kurt could see what Sebastian dreamed possible – a life for the two of them, and whatever the future held. Nothing else mattered. As long as they loved each other, the rest was just details.

Sebastian raised a questioning eyebrow and Kurt nodded, this time letting Sebastian slip the extravagant ring onto his finger.

Kurt gazed at the metal band.

Sebastian wrapped his arms around his fiancé and held him tight, lacing their fingers together.

"Do you think this will really work?" Kurt asked, deciding to be doubtful for just a little while longer.

"Kurt," Sebastian said, "I finally have my trust fund. We'll want for nothing. There are millions of places in the world where we can go, and no one will ever have to see us. Or we can just stay here, on this beach. Whatever you want. As long as we're together, fuck everything else."

Kurt laughed, loving it just a little when Sebastian cursed.

Their eyes met again.

"As long as we're together," Sebastian repeated.

Kurt finally knew for sure. He tucked his tail beneath him, shimmering blue scales catching the last of the late afternoon sun. The rising tide surrounded them, offering his smooth skin relief from the grit of the sand. The wide ocean sang to him, but he wouldn't be returning home tonight.

"As long as we're together." Kurt sighed. "As long as we're together."


	3. Someone to Carry Me Home

**A/N:** _I got numerous requests for the prompt drunk!Kurt. Kurt gets drunk after a surprise visit from his friends that include an unexpected guest. He sneaks away and gets drunk and calls Sebastian to help him home. Warnings for alcohol use and mentions of past!Klaine._

Kurt took a sloppy misstep forward and stumbled, almost falling into the street in the path of a preoccupied taxi cab driver. Sebastian reacted quickly, wrapping his arms tighter around Kurt's waist and pulling him backward, nearly lifting him completely into the air to yank him out of harm's way.

"Thank you," Kurt hicupped, struggling to maintain his balance before continuing on across the street. Sebastian shook his head as he kept his grip on Kurt, one arm around his waist, the other holding Kurt's arm propped over his shoulder.

"So let me get this straight," Sebastian said, repositioning Kurt's body when he felt him slip again, "the whole Scooby crew is out here to visit you for your birthday, but instead you snuck out alone, got drunk off your ass, and then called _me_ to pick you up."

"Well," Kurt said, swaying unsteadily on his feet, "I didn't want anyone I _like_ to see me like this."

"Uh-huh," Sebastian mumbled, seriously considering dropping Kurt into the first puddle he saw.

"Besides, d-do you know who came…who came with them?" Kurt slurred.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say Blaine," Sebastian answered, rolling his eyes at the question he had heard about a hundred times so far.

"Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed indignantly. "I mean…what the…what the fuck…"

"He probably thinks you want to get back together with him," Sebastian muttered in a deadpan tone, parroting the topic of conversation for the whole evening.

"He probably thinks I want to get back together with him," Kurt railroaded on. Sebastian chuckled, shifting Kurt's weight against his hip as they stopped to wait for another light.

"Don't you still love him?" Sebastian asked, sounding more bitter than he intended. "Aren't you guys soulmates or some such shit?"

"I do!" Kurt groaned, his voice rising in volume and pitch. "Or I did…I do…I do-don't know! He's a cheater! A cheater! Do you know what that means?"

"It means he cheated?" Sebastian grunted, holding more of Kurt's weight upright. Kurt seemed to stop walking the more he lamented.

Kurt sighed, his comical tirade coming to a screeching halt.

"It means he destroyed something…something sacred," Kurt said softly, gulping down air to silence a sob. "Every-everything we had t-together. He tur-turned it into something dirty. He-he made it all a lie."

Sebastian breathed in deep, letting the cool evening air fill his lungs and clear his mind. He turned Kurt to face him, putting a finger beneath his chin to pull the focus of his stormy eyes.

"Not that I'm defending the asswipe," Sebastian started calmly, "but one stupid mistake doesn't make what you guys had dirty." Sebastian raised a hand and brushed a stray clump of hair out of Kurt's eyes. "You loved each other."

"H-have you ever cheated on anyone?" Kurt asked.

Sebastian shook his head slightly.

"No," he admitted. "But…sex isn't exactly sacred with me."

Kurt squinted his eyes, trying to focus more on Sebastian's face. He tilted his head from side to side to clear his vision.

"D-did you ever think about kissing me?" Kurt asked softly, slowly closing the distance between them.

Sebastian felt his heart slam to a stop at the thought of Kurt's lips pressed against his. He leaned back a bit, giving himself some space to think.

"Ask me again when you're sober, Hummel," Sebastian said.

Kurt furrowed his brow.

"Why?" Kurt tried to pull Sebastian forward, and Sebastian wanted to follow, wanted to get caught up in the beautiful spell that was the illusive Kurt Hummel.

But again, he pulled away.

"Because," he said, swallowing hard, "I don't want to lose something I can't get back."

Kurt opened his eyes wide, almost as if he suddenly sobered up enough to realize what he was about to do. Sebastian felt the moment slipping, wanted desperately to do something to grab it back.

Sebastian knew better. Kurt was drunk. Kurt might be in love with someone else.

Kurt would most likely regret him.

Sebastian let the moment go.

Kurt turned, lurching forward, dragging Sebastian down the street.

"I always wondered what it would be like to kiss you," Kurt said conversationally. "But would that be considered narcissism? Because you sort of look like me except I dress better, my hair is exceptionally better styled, I'm a lot more skilled at the art of accessorizing, and I have a much more extensive vocal range. But you _are_ taller. Did any of that make sense?" Kurt turned to look at Sebastian expectantly with a dopey smile on his face.

"Yeah," Sebastian bit out, "I caught the first few words, but then all I heard after that was 'fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you.'"

Sebastian stopped walking and looked at the apartments around them, all tall, gray buildings with black, metal fire escapes, almost exactly the same.

"Where the fuck do you live, Hummel?" he asked, breathless from half-carrying Kurt almost ten city blocks.

Kurt's eyes went wide with panic. He shook his head vigorously, ignoring the way everything spun sickeningly with the movement.

"No! No, you can't take me home!" Kurt whined. "I can't go there right now."

"Oh for heaven's sake why not?" Sebastian asked, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Because…because _he's_ there," Kurt whispered, looking around them nervously as if somehow Blaine would appear just by the mention of his name. "He'll see me like this and…and he'll want to take care of me. He'll be all lovey-dovey. He'll sit up with me all night while I puke, and then he'll be _convinced_ that we're made up!"

"Probably," Sebastian agreed, not too sympathetically.

"And it's not just him," Kurt continued seriously. "All of them want us back together. I mean, you should have seen Rachel when she greeted him at the door, with her tiny hopping and her little clapping hands…" Kurt performed a mock impression, and Sebastian laughed, picturing the petite brunette bouncing on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands in rapid succession.

"Then there's Sam," Kurt groaned on louder, no longer concerned with who might hear them, "with their secret handshake and their Blam thing." Kurt scrunched his face in disgust. "What the hell is that anyway?"

Sebastian shrugged, his shoulders trembling with laughter.

"I don't know," he replied.

"And when he walked in, they presented him to me like…like a cake, or something!"

Sebastian laughed harder, almost doubling over. Kurt crossed his arms, raising an unamused eyebrow.

"Okay, Hummel," Sebastian said, recovering quickly, wiping tears from his eyes, "if you didn't just picture your ex covered in frosting, than it's been way longer since you've had sex than I thought."

"Hmph!" Kurt scoffed. "I always thought you had an eye for Blaine. Everybody does. Even Rachel wanted to make out with him."

"Actually," Sebastian said, returning an arm around Kurt's waist, "I kind of always had my eye on someone a bit better."

Kurt felt a small spark ignite in his stomach at Sebastian's words, and in the way Sebastian held him possessively against him. Kurt turned his head, facing Sebastian's profile as he looked down the street the way they came.

"So, where do you want to go?" Sebastian asked, trying hard to ignore the blue-grey eyes aimed his way.

"Can…can we go to your place?"

Sebastian turned to face him, sucking in a sharp breath of surprise.

"You want to go to my apartment?" he asked, needing clarification.

Kurt nodded.

"Yes…if that's alright."

Kurt's eyes were guileless, unblinking as they pleaded silently with Sebastian.

"Well, fuck Hummel." Sebastian tried to sound cocky and put-out by Kurt's request, but he couldn't. Kurt quietly begging to go to Sebastian's place didn't bring that reaction out in him. He fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone. "My place is uptown. I'm calling a cab."

By the time they reached his apartment, Sebastian was thoroughly confused. He didn't know what to make of Kurt clinging to him the entire ride uptown, his contented sighs as he relaxed against him, or the way he hummed softly and wrapped his arms around him tighter. Kurt couldn't be drunk anymore…at least, not as drunk as he was when Sebastian first arrived at the bar. It's not that Sebastian hadn't imagined this, except the circumstances in his daydreams were much different. In his dreams, he and Kurt were out on a proper date. It would be awkward at first, considering their history. Sebastian would remark on Kurt's taste in clothes, and Kurt would likely spar back with a comment about his hair. Sebastian would question aloud why he even asked Kurt on a date to begin with, and Kurt would likely respond by flirting with someone else in an attempt to make Sebastian jealous.

But by the end of the night, they would end up tangled comfortably in each other's arms, in the back of a cab like this one, heading to his apartment, and hopefully Kurt would spend the night.

Well, they had done the verbal sparring, and they were in a cab wrapped in each other's arms, heading to his apartment for the night.

Sebastian bit his lip, looking down at Kurt's sleeping face. There were no loopholes for this one.

He didn't want to win Kurt by default.

He didn't want to be a rebound fuck.

Sebastian hauled a still sleepy Kurt out of the cab and into his building, riding with Kurt wrapped around him up the elevator to his apartment on the fortieth floor.

"Wow," Kurt said when he saw the view out of the picture windows. "This is incredible."

"Yeah, well, it has a few perks." Sebastian's eyes scanned the large, lonely apartment before settling on Kurt, staring out the window with his hands pressed against the glass, like a kid looking through a toy store window. Sebastian smiled.

Not lonely for one night at least.

Kurt turned, and caught Sebastian staring. Sebastian looked down at his shoes and cleared his throat, trying to ignore the attractive blush coloring Kurt's cheeks.

"Uh, why don't you hop in the shower?" Sebastian offered.

"Why?" Kurt asked, looking down at his clothes. "Do I stink?"

"Well, I thought it might make you feel better," Sebastian said, leading Kurt into the bedroom. Kurt watched Sebastian rifle through drawers, pulling out a t-shirt and sweatpants, which Sebastian held out to him. "But to be honest, you do kind of smell like puke. I just hope it's all yours."

Kurt took the offered clothes, an expression of deep mortification draining the color from his face. Sebastian pointed to a door behind Kurt, trying not to laugh.

"Towel's hanging on the door."

Sebastian had never really considered the act of showering to be all that intimate. Like a lot of things in his life, it was just a means to an end. At the moment, it took all of Sebastian's willpower not to open the bathroom door and join Kurt. The thought of Kurt using his soap, washing his hair with his shampoo, drying off with his towel, and then wearing his clothes…and oh God! He wouldn't have any underwear on.

It only got worse when Sebastian took his own shower, imagining Kurt's naked body beneath the hot water spray, soap sliding over his porcelain skin, steam rising up around him as he bathed…

Sebastian contemplated masturbating in the shower, but it struck him as tacky and desperate.

He walked into the bedroom to the glorious sight of Kurt lying in his bed, already half-asleep, and he suddenly wished he had opted for tacky and desperate.

Sebastian switched off the lamp and grabbed a pillow. Kurt grabbed his hand.

"Where'reyougoing?" Kurt asked, the sentence sounding more like one single word.

"I'm going to sleep on the sofa," Sebastian replied. Kurt tugged on his arm weakly.

"Stay here," Kurt muttered. "Don't want to be alone."

Sebastian knew better. He knew sleeping beside Kurt was a bad idea. He knew the responsible thing to do was to say no, and retreat to the couch.

He kept reminding himself of that when he returned the pillow to its spot and climbed onto the bed. Kurt scooted closer to him. He threw an arm over Sebastian's body and rested his head on his chest.

"Kurt?" Sebastian asked, resisting the urge to fold Kurt up in his arms. "What are you doing?"

"Do you mind?" Kurt muttered.

Sebastian could tell by Kurt's voice that he was already mostly asleep.

"No," Sebastian whispered into the dark. "No, I don't mind."

The sunlight warmed Kurt's face, but he turned away from it. Kurt's head didn't pound half as much as he imagined it would, but he still was in no hurry to wake up. He was too comfortable. He felt warm and safe. He opened himself to the sensations around him. He knew the smell of the man beside him. He knew the hand that held his. He knew the warmth of the body curled against him.

He knew that none of it belonged to Blaine.

Kurt smiled.

"Good morning," a soft voice whispered.

Kurt opened his eyes slowly, blinking to adjust to the morning sunlight. He saw Sebastian staring at him. He wore a crooked half smile on his lips, but his eyes gave him away. They were filled with worry and a touch of fear.

They looked vulnerable.

"How'd you sleep?" Sebastian asked. He wondered if he should let go of Kurt's hand.

He didn't want to.

"Good," Kurt answered, trying not to sound awkward.

"How's your head feel?"

"Better. Much better than I thought it would." Kurt nodded, bobbing his head absently as he tried to think of more to say. He bit his lip as he kept his gaze locked on the sincerity of Sebastian's eyes.

"Can I ask you a question?" Kurt asked.

Sebastian nodded. His smile slipped a bit.

Kurt smiled wider.

"Did you ever think about kissing me?"


	4. The Snake Charmer

**A/N: **_Written for the anon prompt 'snake charmer'. Kurt and Sebastian are in love, traveling in search of something important, something that will break a terrible curse. Romance, angst, AU, with a touch of the supernatural. Warning for mentions of snakes and sex._

The sun made its appearance earlier than usual and refused to be ignored. By noon, the tiny marketplace baked beneath its relentless glow, so that the ground cracked, and any drop of moisture sizzled and evaporated away. Undeterred, the bazaar teemed with the unwashed masses, haggling their way through their daily shopping. Vendors tried to outwit the heat by constructing tents; mostly basic frames covered in light fabric to shield them from the fiery sky, but all it succeeded in doing was trapping the heat, turning what was once uncomfortable to truly unbearable.

Kurt sat alone on his intricately woven carpet. A carefully wound green veil covered the pale skin of his face completely, all but his deep azure eyes. He sat away from the bustling mob, tucked strategically in a shady corner. He was at a distance to avoid the persistent scorching white light and mind numbing stench, but close enough that airy strains of music from his flute lured passing treasure hunters to stop and watch and listen…and hopefully pay.

Most passersby only vaguely regarded the snake charmers. They weren't rare in the market place, but Kurt and his emerald cobra drew a bigger audience than most, even on the brutally hot days, which greatly outnumbered the cool, overcast days now that the full force of summer set in.

His beautiful, alluring music trapped them, but it was the gorgeous, venomous creature under his complete control that hypnotized them, and they paid Kurt handsomely for the honor of its company. As his popularity grew, so did suspicion from the local authorities, who couldn't understand the appeal of one vagrant flute player and his pet snake.

"And what do we have here?"

The crowd in front of Kurt's carpet parted to let the chief of the guard and two of his men approach. The sour looking man, haggard from the intense heat, stopped right in front of Kurt. He was a rotund man, with piercing brown eyes peeking out from narrow slits, and a full beard covered in the ash that drifted through the air from the many food tents. The remaining onlookers dispersed quickly, leaving Kurt alone to face the three law men.

He was far from impressed.

"May I help you gentlemen?" he asked with the pretense of civility. "Or did you come to hear me play?"

"I came to ask you a few questions," the man said gruffly. He wiped an ocean of sweat from his brow with one meaty hand. Kurt cringed beneath his veil in disgust.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I was just packing it in for the day."

Kurt clicked his tongue and the snake turned to him. The men stepped back, watching in horror and wonder as the dangerous reptile launched itself at the pale man's outstretched arm. The chief almost yelled a warning, but Kurt flashed his stormy eyes at him, and he froze. The snake slithered up Kurt's arm, winding itself tightly as it went, until its entire body was but an ornament on Kurt's sleeve. Only a bit of its scaly form and its spread hood stood erect. Eerily following their movements, the snake kept its black eyes fixed on the three shocked law men.

"Do you not have a hook to control that creature?" one of the lesser men said with wide eyes. "Or a basket to transport it in?"

"Why?" Kurt asked innocently. "I'm not the one in danger."

"I've heard of you," the third man said.

"Have you?" Kurt returned nonplussed, but still listening carefully.

"Yes." The man eyed Kurt suspiciously. "People say you travel from bazaar to bazaar, looking for a rare jewel that will help you break some terrible curse."

Kurt smirked, rolling his eyes.

"Really?" Kurt said, tying up his rug tight. "I would think an official like yourself would be more selective about what he believes."

"They say you and this…this creature…have an unnatural relationship."

"Do they now?" Kurt sneered, standing with the cobra wrapped possessively around his arm. "Would you like to take that up with him?"

Kurt moved forward, but the men moved back. Kurt laughed softly at the look of fear on their faces.

The chief guard watched Kurt gather his things. He watched as Kurt cooed at his snake, kissing it gently on the back of the hood like an old friend. His lip curled into a sadistic sneer.

"You'd better watch yourself, snake charmer," the surly man called to Kurt's back. "I'm not sure I like your kind hanging around my marketplace."

"I'll keep that in mind," Kurt called back as he walked away without a single glance back.

Kurt walked several miles through the stretch of desert outside the boundaries of the small town to the nomad camp where his tent was pitched. On his journey north they had come across him. They noticed his strange, pale skin, and after seeing Kurt's emerald snake eating patiently from his hand, they took finding him as an omen, and offered him their protection.

He bowed in salaam to the men standing guard, and they returned the greeting to him, as well as to his snake. Kurt turned at the entrance to his tent and saw the sun sinking low in the sky. He shut tight the heavy flaps, and hurried to prepare. He left the cobra on his own carpet with his dinner while Kurt lit oil candles and burnt incense. He quickly bathed, scenting his hair and skin with perfumes, and wearing his finest clothes. His stomach swooped with excitement so that he didn't even eat a bite of his dinner, instead drinking from a flask of wine to calm the butterflies.

A voice, soft and rich like fine velvet stirred them up again.

"I appreciate all the trouble you go through dressing for me, gorgeous. It's such a shame I'm just going to tear them off you."

After ten long years without hearing it, that voice of pure seduction sounded like the answer to a prayer, the fulfillment of a dream. Kurt couldn't speak, so he didn't. He turned and launched himself at the incredible creature, only partially human for the moment since the sun hadn't fully set.

Sebastian.

Kurt's one and only true love.

The two of them victims of an evil, sadistic curse that keeps them apart for all but one night every ten years.

Kurt ran his hands down Sebastian's body of smooth, emerald scales, feeling them shift and reform beneath his fingers as they became human skin. Sebastian backed away sorrowfully from Kurt's kiss, not wanting to touch him with a serpent's tongue or accidentally bite him with the remains of his fangs, but Kurt insisted, claiming Sebastian's lips with a famished moan.

"I think we are getting closer, my love," Kurt said, kissing the hood that still surrounded Sebastian's head. "At least they've heard of us here. Someone might know something. But you have to be careful. Please…be careful."

"I will," Sebastian hissed, shutting his black eyes to absorb the feeling of Kurt's tongue licking around the shell of now human ears. When he opened his eyes again, they were green human eyes.

Sebastian looked on Kurt's face and smiled.

"Ten years," he whispered, his forked tongue rounding out, his reptilian hiss gone, "and you don't look as if you've aged a day."

"But, I have," Kurt said sadly, taking Sebastian's still scaled hand and holding it to his heart. "In here. In my heart and in my soul, I get older, weaker." When he looked back into Sebastian's eyes, they were shimmering with tears. "I've lost ten years so far. You've lost twenty! I can't take this much longer. Please…please tell me you'll find it? Please tell me you'll succeed where I've failed?"

Sebastian smiled.

"You haven't failed," Sebastian said softly. "You got us here. You've kept us alive. We'll find the gem that breaks our curse together. I can feel it."

Kurt nodded, but he didn't look too hopeful.

Sebastian sighed and pulled Kurt close, his transformation still far from complete.

"What can I give you, my love?" Sebastian asked. "What can I do to ease your burden?"

"I need you, my love. I need the soothing cool of your body to keep me sane."

"Don't you want to wait until I've completely changed?" Sebastian asked, but his eyes were already burning with want and need, his hands moving over Kurt's body, helping him disrobe.

"No," Kurt said with a stern note of finality. "I don't want to wait to have you a minute longer."

Nights in the desert during the summer aren't long enough for those lingering under a curse.

The nomads were lulled to sleep with a symphony of moans, and sighed, knowing that the gods they harbored were pleased.

Those moans turned to sobs when the first light of the sun touched the horizon, and all too soon a much taller man, dressed in the same clothes, but wearing a blue veil emerged from the tent, heading back to town with a carpet tucked beneath his arm, a flute dangling from his shoulder by a leather thong, and a magnificent blue cobra, glittering like a sapphire beneath the merciless light of day wrapped around his sleeve.

The man set up in the same shady spot, laying out his carpet and tuning his flute.

This time, the guards arrived early.

The smug chief stepped up authoritatively, but stopped short when his eyes fell upon the man's covered face. Even shrouded completely by his veil, the chief knew the man had changed.

"What happened to you?" the confounded chief asked.

"I have no idea what you mean," the man said, nonchalantly disregarding the chief and his guards.

"Where is the man who was here yesterday?"

The veiled man looked up, then looked around, finally meeting the chief's gaze.

"Who?"

"The other man," the chief groaned with frustration, "with the pale face and the blue eyes. He had a cobra, too, only his was a deep, emerald green. A green like…like fine jewels." The chief stuttered to explain himself, looking around to find something he could compare the color to. Then he stopped, squinting intensely into the veiled man's face. "A green like…the color of your eyes…"

Sebastian smirked. He looked at the beautiful blue cobra still wrapped around his arm and sighed wistfully.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."


	5. A Kiss in the Rain

**A/N:** _This is a one-shot I wrote for the prompt 'raindrop'. Kurt and Sebastian in New York on a rainy day, watching the movie The Notebook. Romance, future-fic, AU, with a touch of angst. Warning for mention of Past!Klaine. 1,104 words._

Sebastian wrapped his arms around Kurt and held him tight. Kurt cuddled close beneath the blanket he laid over them and sniffled quietly, trying his hardest not to give himself away, but Sebastian knew. He knew all about Kurt's often irrational love for the movie _The Notebook_. He also knew all the scenes that turned Kurt from a sighing romantic into a blubbering mess. Even though Kurt refused to admit that he was biting his lip, desperately struggling to keep tears at bay, Sebastian subtly pressed a tissue into Kurt's trembling hand. Kurt took it, and quickly dabbed his eyes.

Kurt had chosen the movie specifically to compliment the weather. Clouds crowded the sky outside their picture window. It rained on and off all afternoon. But Kurt seemed to be more overwhelmed by emotion than usual. Soft sighs followed every expression of love, a fresh stream of tears flowed after every swell of music. Kurt became unnaturally quiet, trying so hard to hide his feelings.

Kurt couldn't fool Sebastian. The only time Kurt became strangely sad and moody this way was when he thought about Blaine. It didn't happen often, and when it did, Sebastian didn't hold it against him. Sebastian ran his fingertips over Kurt's shoulder, watching them tremble slightly as Kurt swallowed back sobs. He weighed his options, trying to think of what might bring Kurt out of his funk. Sebastian discovered early on that a blow job didn't work well in this situation, so that option was off the table…at least, for now. That also ruled out sex in general.

The make it or break it moment came; the scene no man in all known history could never hope to live up to, and Sebastian realized that for all of his vast knowledge of Kurt's relationship with his dreaded ex, there was one thing he never asked.

"So, did you and Captain Crooner ever do the kissing in the rain thing?"

Kurt laughed a little bitterly.

"No," he said tersely. "We never got around to it."

Sebastian cast a glance at the gloomy New York weather. Dark, heavy clouds still loomed overhead. They had been hovering over the apartment all day. It hadn't rained in the last half hour. Sebastian figured they were due. He stood, almost rolling Kurt off the sofa. Kurt snorted in surprise, catching himself before he fell to the floor.

"Here," Sebastian said, tossing Kurt his jacket, "put this on. We're going out."

"Wh-what?" Kurt stammered, looking at his jacket lying across his legs. He blew his nose loudly into the crumpled tissue. "But…but it's all gray and gross outside."

"Yeah, well, it's not really a bucket of fun in here, either," Sebastian retorted, shrugging on his own black jacket. Kurt barely had one arm in his sleeve before Sebastian pulled him up off the sofa and helped him put it on the rest of the way. Sebastian buttoned up the front quickly, then tied a red tartan scarf loosely around Kurt's neck. He barely gave Kurt time to grab his keys and his cell phone. He grabbed his boyfriend's hand and raced out of the apartment, pulling Kurt along behind him like a tired, old dog.

They bolted down the sidewalk, heading for the heart of the city.

"Aren't we taking the subway?" Kurt asked, staring at the subway entrance they were rapidly leaving behind.

"Nope," Sebastian answered bluntly, keeping his eyes trained on the dark clouds overhead. If they didn't make it to Central Park, maybe he could find some other obliging, remotely picturesque spot.

To Sebastian's despair, the closer they got to Central Park, the more the clouds seemed to dissipate, revealing patches of blue sky. God rays poked through, sweeping away the gloom. Sebastian dragged Kurt all over Central Park, trying to suss out the romantic, kiss-worthy, memorable spots. They walked across the Sheep Meadow, through the Lilac Walk, along the Literary Walk and past the Olmsted Flower Bed. Kurt panted behind Sebastian as he fought to keep pace with his slightly taller boyfriend.

Sebastian kept his eyes on the sky, hopeful for even a momentary downpour, but the further into the park they ventured, the more it seemed unlikely that they would see any rain.

Sebastian was so focused on his goal that he almost forgot completely about poor Kurt stumbling along behind him.

"Sebastian, can we slow down?" Kurt gasped.

Sebastian stopped on a patch of grass, watching as more and more people came out to enjoy the fresh rays of sunshine after a day of rain. He looked around, shoulders slumping in defeat. He caught sight of a solitary hot dog cart, and his stomach grumbled.

"Do you want a knish?" Sebastian asked, his voice flat with disappointment.

Kurt grimaced, not a big fan of sidewalk cuisine, but nodded. He hoped that by agreeing he might lighten Sebastian's inexplicably sullen mood.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" Kurt asked, following Sebastian to the hot dog cart. Sebastian handed Kurt his potato pastry wrapped in grease soaked wax paper. Kurt unwrapped the hot knish carefully, waiting for an explanation.

"I just wanted to try something," Sebastian said gruffly, taking his change from the man at the cart.

Kurt smiled down at his snack, putting off taking a bite for as long as possible.

"Trying your hand at being a hopeless romantic, Smythe?" Kurt teased, finally picking off a piece of the steaming hot pastry and popping it in his mouth.

Sebastian smirked, not looking into Kurt's mocking face.

"So, what if I was." Sebastian shrugged.

"I think that's incredibly sweet," Kurt said, putting a hand on Sebastian's shoulder, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek.

Sebastian turned quickly, capturing Kurt's lips, pulling him close with an arm wrapped around his waist. Kurt yelped happily in surprised, losing himself in kissing his gorgeous boyfriend in Central Park on such a beautiful, sunny afternoon.

"God, I wanted to do that all day," Sebastian sighed. "But you were so fucking mopey…"

Kurt pushed Sebastian playfully, but Sebastian held him tighter, kissing Kurt again until all thoughts of sappy love stories and annoying ex-boyfriends evaporated into the ether.

"I know what we can do," Sebastian murmured against Kurt's lips. "We can go back to the apartment and make-out in the shower."

"Hmm, that's not exactly kissing in the rain, is it?" Kurt asked coyly.

Sebastian bit Kurt's lip in retaliation.

"It's kissing and getting wet," Sebastian argued. "Besides, a shower's kind of like rain. I think we've got our bases covered."

"My boyfriend, ladies and gentlemen," Kurt laughed. "The hopeless romantic."


	6. Daddies

**A/N:** _Inspired by the prompt 'daddies'. Sebastian wakes up alone, knowing that Kurt is sleeping in someone else's bed...their foster son Thomas. Thomas has terrible nightmares about losing his mom, and Kurt and Sebastian talk about how best to make it better. Fluff, family, future fic._

At some point between dreaming about his mother's rice pudding and dressing in a red Spandex super hero costume, Sebastian felt the soft press of lips against his. Regretfully, however, the lure of sleep won out over the promise of his husband's tempting lips, and Sebastian drifted back into a world of crime fighting and custard-based desserts.

Sebastian turned onto his stomach and reach out an arm for Kurt, searching out his warmth and his incredibly soft skin even while his head still swam with the sweet delirium of sleep. Sebastian's hand padded at the mattress, coming in contact with cold, wrinkled sheets at every pass. Sebastian sighed. He peeled one heavy eyelid opened and took a peek.

Gone. Kurt's side of the bed was vacant. The sheets were cold. Sebastian frowned. He knew exactly where his husband had gone.

Kurt had crawled off to climb into bed with a sassier, much younger brunette.

Sebastian threw off his comforter with a resentful grunt, shivering as all the delicious heat escaped like a flash into the chill evening air. He grabbed blindly for his sweatshirt, tossing it on over his tank top t-shirt, trying to wake up even as his body gravitated instinctually back towards the bed.

"Kurt…" he groaned, his voice low and groggy. He stumbled into the hall, stubbing his toe on the door jamb along the way.

Sebastian felt his way down the hall, the journey to the small bedroom on the left not yet ingrained in his psyche so that he can make it unfailingly in the dark.

"Kurt…" he continued to groan, like some sleep deprived, one-track minded zombie.

"Shhh!" a high-pitched voice hissed from inside the otherwise quiet room.

"Did…did you just shush me?" Sebastian mumbled incredulously. Now more awake, he made his way quietly through the partially open door. He found Kurt where he always found him, cramped onto the far edge of the full-size bed, his entire body curled around a peacefully sleeping toddler. Sebastian could see a tuft of the boy's brown hair, barely visible above the Skylanders comforter wrapped tightly around him.

Sebastian put a hand on Kurt's shoulder, smirking down at the unlikely pair.

"I thought we agreed that climbing into bed with snuggles here every time he had a nightmare was a bad idea," Sebastian chided around a yawn.

"I never said that," Kurt muttered, refusing to look up into Sebastian's mocking face.

"Uh, yes you did," Sebastian said, moving to the unused side of the bed. "You said he needed to learn how to comfort himself. You showed me magazine articles, and quoted from books written by Star Trek characters…"

Kurt scoffed. He wrapped his arms protectively around the little boy.

Sebastian lied down carefully on the bed and stretched out, his feet hanging over the edge.

"Let me guess," Sebastian sighed, "another dream about his mom?"

Kurt didn't have to answer. They'd only had Thomas for about a month, and even though the little boy with the infectious laugh and the mischievous streak had opened up amazingly to Kurt and Sebastian, he dreamt every night about his mother.

The boy's snarky attitude had appealed to Sebastian. Thomas reminded him of a miniature Kurt.

The way he had lost his mother had drawn Kurt to him. In the end, more than anything, that was why they had chosen him as their first foster child.

Though 'foster' was just a formality. Sebastian knew that once they got the okay, Thomas would be theirs.

"At least you could have let me get up with him this time." Sebastian grabbed for the end of the comforter and pulled it over his body, the unused end barely fitting over him with nothing left to cover his back.

"You were deeply engrossed in another rice pudding dream," Kurt whispered. "I know better than to interrupt one of those."

"Mmm," Sebastian moaned, smacking his lips. "Rice pudding."

Sebastian lay still, trying hard to convince himself that he was comfortable enough to fall asleep, but after a few minutes with his ass hanging off the bed and his back exposed to the cold he realized he was in for a long night.

"Um…can't we just take the little guy into our bed for the night, since we're all together anyway?"

"No," Kurt insisted, rolling his own stiff neck and shoulders. "Then he'll just climb into bed with us whenever he has a nightmare, and that I _can't_ allow."

"We do need to get a lock for our door," Sebastian said, trying to scoot closer to the cuddled pair. "What if he walks in on us…"

Sebastian stopped and chuckled.

"What?" Kurt asked, holding Thomas closer when he rolled over and buried his head beneath his pillow to block out their conversation.

"I just don't make enough money to pay for that amount of therapy."


	7. Heart of Darkness

**A/N:** _Written for the anon prompt 'vampire'. Not everyone finds their soulmate in the same place. Vampire!Kurt Eventual Vampire!Sebastian. Romance, soulmate, supernatural. Warning for biting, blood sucking, fangs, and just a tiny bit of gore. Nothing excessive._

Kurt sat in the shadows and watched the smug, overly confident man wander the abandoned city streets. Every night, just after eleven, he emerged from his upscale penthouse on the upper east side and walked…just walked around the vacant city for hours and hours, down every dark alleyway, into every seedy corner of town. Kurt's red eyes glowed as he watched with a mixture of curiosity and awe. Who was this ignorant man that he thought he could invade Kurt's world unprotected, unarmed, and come out alive?

Yet every night he did just that.

Kurt found himself inexplicable drawn to this man. He gravitated toward him, but he did not touch him.

Kurt could take his life so easily. He knew what the man wanted.

Still, the mortals who had been asinine enough to seek him out over the years at least feared him, but not Kurt's current prey. This brazen man with the chocolate colored hair, eyes like emeralds, and ridiculous amount of self-worth mocked Kurt with his very existence. This beautiful mortal's unmitigated gall made Kurt furious…and thirsty.

Kurt watched in amusement as other vampires stalked his prize. Newbie pups drooled over him, red saliva dripping over their chins as they tracked him to his apartment, only to have their necks ripped open by Kurt when they ventured too close. Even those vampires that didn't hunt humans, the ones who struggled so hard to hold on to their humanity, longed for a bite of him, but at least they had restraint enough to keep their distance. They could sense the claim that surrounded him. No human, no matter how irresistible, was worth going up against an Old World demon such as Kurt.

A vampire of Kurt's age was a rare monster, so old that he had journeyed through all the stages of his transformation a thousand times: blood lust, denial, acceptance, decision, cruelty and vengeance. Now, with countless years under his belt, none of them worth counting or remembering, he had simply started to go mad.

The night had finally come when his overwhelming desire for blood, for _this_ man's blood, became too excruciatingly difficult to ignore. Nothing else seemed to satisfy him. No amount of death, human or vampire, could settle him.

As if the burn of his own thirst wasn't enough, before going home for the night, the shameless man turned to the empty night and yelled, "I don't know what you're waiting for, old man."

Kurt felt his fangs rip into his own lip as he snarled. The man smirked as if he knew the reaction his words had prompted.

"I'll leave a window open for you if that makes it easier."

Then he slipped past the confounded doorman without another word.

Kurt forced himself to wait. He had yet to make the decision to give this insolent ass immortality, but regardless, Kurt didn't want to accidentally tear his heart out of his chest before he had made a conscious choice.

A part of Kurt wanted to shut this man down permanently; wipe the conceited smirk from his face and drain him of every last drop of precious blood. Kurt wanted to watch his eyes go blank and his life slip away slowly until it was completely and irretrievably lost.

But there was another part of him, a part that Kurt didn't want to acknowledge; a weak, hidden, almost human part of his psyche that was desperately lonely. That loneliness, always suppressed, always silent, had never been an issue before.

Why now? Why after so long?

Kurt waited till the man's windows had gone dark before he made his move.

He growled with rage when he saw the window had indeed been left wide open for him. He was through it and settled over the man's chest in a flash.

The man wasn't sleeping. He lay in his bed awake, staring at the ceiling.

Now he was staring at Kurt.

He smiled.

"I thought you might not come," he said softly. The man sounded relieved. Kurt sat back a little, confused. "It certainly took you long enough."

"How dare you?" Kurt barked. "How dare you taunt me, you…you…"

"Sebastian," the man offered. "My name's Sebastian."

"Sebastian." Kurt repeated the name, held onto it, made the sound of it his own.

Kurt's mind wandered for a moment. Why was it suddenly so important for him to know this man's name?

He didn't notice the finger that boldly traced a line down his cheek. A sudden rush of warmth sent an alarm throughout his body.

Kurt startled, shaking the hand from his face.

"Don't touch me," Kurt warned, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't even look at me."

"But isn't that what gets you off?" Sebastian teased. "The look of pain and agony in someone's eyes when you snuff out their life?"

"Fuck you!" Kurt sneered as he hovered just above Sebastian's body. "I would love to see you suffer."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, seemingly unperturbed by Kurt's outburst.

"Is that really what you want?"

"What else would I want?" Kurt asked.

"I know you want me," Sebastian stated matter-of-factly.

Kurt grew angry, annoyed that Sebastian could make him lose any measure of self-control.

"What I want is your blood. That's all I want."

Sebastian sat up slightly, propping himself up on his elbows, closing the space between himself and Kurt.

"So…" Sebastian whispered, lips mere inches from Kurt's, "why don't you take it then?"

Kurt put a hand to Sebastian's chest, pressing him back onto the bed, and felt him shudder. Kurt smiled, fangs lengthening at the scent of fear prevalent in the air.

"So you _are_ afraid after all?"

"Afraid of dying?" Sebastian asked with a slight tremor in his voice. "Of course I'm afraid of dying. I'm not an idiot. But I'm not afraid of you."

"Then you're a bigger idiot than you realize."

Kurt put his free hand to Sebastian's cheek and turned it, searching out the beckoning pulse that fluttered just beneath Sebastian's pale skin. Kurt licked his lips, tracing over the tiny, rapidly beating spot with his fingertips.

He felt Sebastian sigh in contentment at Kurt's touch.

Kurt became enraged…and strangely excited.

"That's right," Kurt purred mockingly. "Just relax. This is only going to hurt…a _lot_…"

Sebastian held his breath, and Kurt bit him, sinking surgically sharp fangs deep into his jugular, clamping down tight. He intended to pull, wanted it to hurt, wanted Sebastian to gasp and scream, but a single taste of Sebastian's blood touched Kurt's tongue and he stopped. Kurt froze, astonished that Sebastian's blood even had a flavor. Mostly, taking blood was an act of pure need, and the hot rush of it infused Kurt with adrenaline, made him feel alive. But Sebastian's blood was different; sweet, like honey, like he was meant to drink it. Different sensations exploded over him at once; sensations that had faded over time or that he chose to block out. He could smell roses growing in the garden outside, the fragrance of the night blooming jasmine that climbed up the stone walls. He heard music from a few apartments down below – Mozart Symphony No. 40 in G-minor. It surprised him to recall that he knew the piece by heart, could play parts of it if there were a piano available.

Kurt could feel; not in the shallow, overly-romanticized way humans felt. Every inch of him burst open, raw and sensitized like jagged nerves seeking out every sensation and pummeling him with them all at once.

Kurt felt Sebastian's heart racing in his chest until it almost burst, but the more he drank, it started to slow, until the telltale thub-thub of its rhythmic beat softened, nearly imperceptible to even Kurt's superior hearing. Kurt reluctantly withdrew his fangs and crept backward off the bed, red eyes locked to Sebastian's emerald gaze, waiting with eager satisfaction for the painful throes of death to begin.

Kurt perched on a nearby chair. He watched Sebastian die. Mortals dying was usually his favorite part; the human arrogance turning to fear as realization set in. Kurt tried to grin, to spread his lips into the most gruesome, frightening grimace he could conjure, but one look in Sebastian's panic stricken eyes stopped Kurt cold. His own realization smacked him like a fist to the face.

Sebastian was dying.

He was scared and alone and dying, with no one for comfort or company but a soulless devil.

All at once, it became too much to bear.

Kurt flew to his side in an instant. Sebastian screamed, pain hitting him like the sting of a thousand hot irons against his flesh. Kurt vaguely remembered it, but he never allowed himself to relive the experience until now. Sebastian's arms flailed, stiff and useless, grabbing at the sheets, raking across them, searching for something.

Or someone, Kurt realized.

Kurt grabbed Sebastian's hand and held it.

Kurt knew Sebastian was blind by now, his venom killing all his cells, destroying anything healthy and strong and turning it worthless and diseased.

"I'm here," Kurt whispered, hoping that Sebastian might hear his voice just once before that sense left him, too. Kurt didn't understand why easing Sebastian's pain was suddenly so important to him. If he could solve that riddle, then maybe he'd be able to figure out why he had started crying.

"Shhh, it'll be alright," Kurt hushed, overcome with forgotten feelings of agony and despair.

What if Sebastian didn't survive? What if he didn't make it?

After all these many centuries, would the sun be enough to kill Kurt?

It took hours for Sebastian to die. The torture of it almost ripped Kurt to pieces. He stayed by Sebastian's side until his last breath, leaning close to Sebastian's mouth to feel its heat as it escaped his body. Then he lay still, twisted, deformed, his features frozen with the mask of death. This was the point when most killers left, but Kurt stayed. He straightened Sebastian's body, laid him out on his bed, with his head resting on the pillow. Kurt shut Sebastian's fixed, staring eyes, and closed his silently screaming mouth. When he was done, Sebastian appeared peacefully asleep.

Kurt waited.

Kurt felt the prickling beneath his cold skin that warned him that dawn was only a few short hours away, but he refused to leave without knowing that Sebastian would be okay, that he had somewhere dark to hide from the sun.

Sebastian's eyes snapped open and searched the room for Kurt. Kurt's red eyes locked onto Sebastian's hungry stare, his beautiful green eyes gone, replaced with the red eyes of a killer.

Sebastian smiled, sitting up in bed and looking around, taking in the world with his new, exceptional sight, the sight that would help him hunt down prey, seek out blood and heat, even underground or in the cold of winter.

His eyes returned to Kurt, and the smile grew wider.

"You're still here?" Sebastian asked casually.

Kurt cringed. Really, what had he expected?

"Yeah," Kurt replied, rising from his seat. He straightened his clothes to have something to do other than stare at this gorgeous newborn. "I'm still here. I couldn't decide whether I wanted to let you burn or not. Sunrise is in a few hours."

"And you decided to let me live?" Sebastian teased. Kurt rolled his eyes. How was it possible that Sebastian managed to get even more annoying by becoming a vampire? Kurt shook his head in disgust.

"You're welcome," Kurt groaned sarcastically, making his way to the window. He stopped for a moment to look out at the sky, to gauge the sensation of heat rising beneath his skin, and decide where would be safest for him to spend the daylight hours.

He waited a moment longer to see if Sebastian would try and stop him from leaving.

"So, you got what you wanted," Kurt hissed, feeling strangely bitter and used. "You're _immortal_."

The word felt like poison on Kurt's tongue. He focused on an obliging cemetery in the distance, preparing to disappear.

Sebastian vaulted silently off the bed and caught Kurt quickly, effortlessly holding him with a single hand.

"So, does that mean I get to spend an eternity with you?"

Kurt laughed.

"Who says I want to spend eternity with _you_?"

Sebastian took Kurt's face in his hands, delicately tracing over Kurt's cheekbones with his thumbs, mindful of his new strength. Sebastian's body surged with Kurt's powerful venom, replacing weak human blood in his veins. With his new eyes he could see Kurt truly for what he was, perfect and smooth, like fine, flawless porcelain. Part of him was rage and fire. Part of him was fragile and longed to be loved and protected.

"I know because you stayed," Sebastian whispered, risking a kiss to Kurt's blood streaked cheek, his tongue licking over the remains of a red tear Kurt had forgotten. "You held my hand. You told me it would be alright. I was right all along…" Sebastian waited a moment to see if Kurt would try and pull away. Sebastian captured Kurt's lips gently, enjoying the new sensation of lips that were so strong, so cool, so different from fragile human skin. Sebastian smiled, barely leaving Kurt's mouth as he spoke. "You want to be with me…as much as I always wanted to be with you."

Kurt's eyelids fluttered in his confusion – an unnecessary human tic that cropped up only when Kurt felt lost or vulnerable; something that hadn't happened in so long, Kurt couldn't even remember it.

"I…I don't understand…" Kurt stuttered. "You went through all of this…you died…you became inhuman…just to be with me?" Kurt shook his head in disbelief. "Why?"

Sebastian rested his forehead against Kurt's, wrapping strong arms around him and holding him tight.

"Because you belong to me. I belong to you. Not everyone finds their soulmate in the same place."


	8. Picking the Perfect Place

_A/N:_ _This is the first prompt I wrote. Someone left the word 'the' in my ask box, so I wrote a one-shot. PG13, featuring Santana, Elliot, Rachel, and Dani in the loft in New York. Kurt and Sebastian try to pick a place for dinner._

Rachel dropped down on the sofa between Elliot and Santana. Dani sat delicately in her girlfriend's lap, handing over her half-full glass of red wine.

"So, it's almost 8 o'clock, guys," Rachel whined. "Are we still going out for dinner?"

"Don't look at us," Santana replied, wrapping an arm around Dani's waist and pulling her further onto her lap. "It's Lady Hummel and Meerkat Boy's turn to pick a place."

Kurt and Sebastian walked in from the kitchen with their own wine glasses. Kurt's eyes went wide as inspiration struck.

"Oh!" Kurt chirped with excitement, grabbing a hold of Sebastian's polo and tugging slightly. "Do you know what I'm in the mood for?"

"What, gorgeous?" Sebastian asked, smirking at the hand that throttled his shirt.

"The chicken with the stuff…" Kurt let go of Sebastian's shirt and made a sprinkling motion with his hand, "…and the sauce…"

"The red sauce or the white?" Sebastian asked, raising a thoughtful eyebrow and taking a sip from his glass.

"No, no, the brownish-gray stuff. God, I wish I could remember. It was the chef's specialty and he wouldn't tell us what was in it, and I couldn't tell because I had burned my tongue on those awful fries…"

"Oh, the place in SoHo," Sebastian said, pointing animatedly, "with the overhead fans made from recycled scrap metal. Remember? It almost chopped off your hair."

Kurt scowled, crossing his arms tight across his chest, almost spilling his drink.

"We said we'd never mention 'the incident' again…"

Rachel, Santana, Dani, and Elliot watched Kurt and Sebastian, their heads bouncing back and forth between them as they continued their debate.

"Okay, wait…are we talking about the place with the…" Sebastian made an obscure waving motion over his head, and Kurt shook his head vehemently.

"No, the place _you're_ thinking about closed down. I'm talking about the other place with the…" Kurt took a stab at making vague arm gestures. Santana squinted her eyes as she watched.

"You guys must _suck_ at Pictionary," she blurted out. Dani buried her head into Santana's shoulder to muffle her snickering.

Sebastian tilted his head as he tried to decipher Kurt's movements.

"Isn't that the place that always reeks of stale beer?"

"No!" Kurt exclaimed, becoming exasperated. "The place next door to it reeks of stale beer."

Sebastian jumped suddenly, setting his glass down on the coffee table.

"You mean the place with the plaid tablecloths!" he practically yelled with a triumphant look on his face.

"That's the one!" Kurt returned happily. "With that awful stuffed beaver and…"

"The huge duck on the wall!" they finished together.

Sebastian wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist and held him close. With a devilish glint in his eyes, he captured Kurt's lips and kissed him shamelessly, well aware of the multiple pairs of eyes that watched them.

Santana's lips twisted into a disgusted grimace.

"Well, I'm pretty sure that just killed my appetite," she groaned.

"Then you don't have to come," Kurt remarked snidely against Sebastian's kiss swollen lips. "But you'll be missing out because the chicken caprese is to die for."

The four friends watched Kurt lean into Sebastian's ear. He whispered something secret and salacious that made Sebastian grab Kurt's ass and growl in a distinctly animal way.

"Later," Sebastian said. It sounded very much like a promise. "Go get your coat, gorgeous."

Sebastian swatted Kurt playfully on the ass. He yelped, skipping forward, his cheeks a deep shade of pink. He glanced at the group still sitting on the sofa.

"Are you guys coming?" he asked innocently, ignoring their quizzical stares.

"Uh…yeah, sure," Elliot said, standing and following Kurt to the door.

"Wh-what the hell just happened?" Rachel asked, grabbing her coat and slipping it over her arms. "Did they actually pick a place?"

"Didn't you hear?" Dani stuck a few stray strands of bluish-tinged hair up into her boho cap. "We're going to the only lumberjack rubber ducky themed restaurant in the tri-state area."

"No," Elliot said seriously, waiting for the group to leave before pulling the loft door closed behind him. "You're thinking of the wrong place."


	9. Away from the Rain

**A/N:** _Written for the anon prompt 'raindrop'. Kurt bumps into Sebastian at a funeral. Warning for mention of character death. Future fic, mention of past!Klaine, mention of Finn._

Kurt stood beneath the raindrops and let them ruin him. They soaked his suit, dripped through his hair, rolled down his skin and traveled beneath his clothes. He didn't acknowledge them, he ceased to care. He figured they couldn't do more damage than had already been done, so he would try to become one with them. He would let them surround him, absorb him, leech away his pain, drown his soul.

A number of hands touched him - grabbed his shoulder and squeezed, attempting to be comforting or to find comfort, but he was too numb to take and he had nothing left to give.

Kurt could start marking death by raindrops, the way most people marked birthdays by the amount of candles on their cake. There were no raindrops at his mother's funeral. In fact, it was a beautiful, crisp day. The sky had been cornflower blue, with barely a cloud to be seen.

Kurt counted 2096 raindrops at Finn's funeral service. He started counting the moment the priest started reciting the Lord's Prayer and stopped at some point after his father numbly pulled him away from the casket.

At his father's service, Kurt didn't stop counting until he reached close to 10,000, but by then, he wasn't sure if he was counting the rain on his face, or his tears. They all seemed to blur together.

Now here he was, barely five years later, watching as friends of Carole's gathered to lay her in the ground. He had outlived them all – his mother, his brother, his father, his stepmother – all gathered together with barely a plot between them, no space left over.

He decided at that moment he would probably be cremated.

Counting the raindrops now seemed pretty useless. They just seemed like a necessary evil, almost like a prop. If this had been a birthday party, it would have been confetti and crepe paper. A wedding, and he'd be pelted with rice. Somebody died, let's turn on the rain.

The service was beautiful as funerals go. He didn't have a hand in planning this one. He felt his time had been better spent sitting at Carole's bedside, listening as she talked about falling in love with his father again and again, like she would forget if she didn't repeat every detail over and over.

The Ladies Auxiliary arranged a wake down at the VFW, and soon after the prayers were said and the flowers left, the mourners made their way back to town to celebrate Carole`s life the way she would have wanted - around a table full of casseroles and Jell-O molds, not standing beside a hole in the ground.

Kurt didn't watch the people leave. He didn't watch as he was slowly left alone. He waited for the quiet that came with being left alone so he could say his final good-byes.

But one man didn't leave. He stood at a distance, not too far from the casket, quietly respecting Kurt's privacy.

His presence irritated Kurt. What was he waiting for?

_Good-bye is a short word,_ Kurt thought. _Just say it and be gone._

Carole would want Kurt to be polite, but Kurt felt like being an ass.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Kurt bit out, not raising his eyes from the array of roses along the ground to address the blurry figure fully.

"Don't get your panties in a knot, princess," a recognizable sardonic voice replied.

"Oh poop on toast," Kurt said, his head snapping up to meet the mocking green eyes staring at him. "What in gay hell are you doing here?"

"Paying my respects," Sebastian replied. He looked around him at the empty cemetery. "So, where are your friends? I thought they'd all be here singing inspirational power ballads or something."

Kurt looked back down at the display of roses – all white roses except for one lonely bouquet of lavender. He knew sterlings were Carole's favorite. He had gone to seven different florists searching for them. He finally found a sad little bunch down at the Safeway. He occupied his mind examining their pathetic, wilting petals to try and quell his shame.

"I didn't tell them."

Sebastian didn't ask why, just raised an eyebrow with the expectation that Kurt would continue.

"We're all so busy, and we see each other so rarely nowadays." Kurt sighed, looking up into the falling rain. "I didn't want to become the kind of friends who only made it a point to get together when somebody died." Kurt let his eyes wander over the graves and headstones, searching for anything to look at instead of Sebastian's judgmental face. "I'll shoot them all an email when I get back."

Kurt chanced a glance back at Sebastian. To Kurt's surprise, Sebastian wasn't judging him, simply listening to him talk with an expression of genuine interest.

"Wait…what are you doing here?" Kurt asked again, suddenly realizing that Sebastian coming to pay his last respects to Carole wasn't as normal as their deceptively comfortable tete a tete made it seem.

"Don't be so suspicious. I have a few relatives pushing up daisies here as well." Sebastian waved vaguely to the other side of the cemetery, where the large plots and mausoleums stood. "I just happened to see your little party from where I was, and thought I recognized your monumental coiffure."

Kurt nodded.

Sebastian nodded.

Awkwardness started to set in.

"And…how's Blaine?" Sebastian asked with a strange hesitation in his voice. Kurt turned his head away to roll his eyes in private.

"Uh…things between us didn't quite work out the way we imagined," Kurt admitted.

"You mean, even after the huge, showy proposal?"

Kurt cringed at the sound of amusement in Sebastian's voice.

"Yeah, well it seems the rest of our relationship didn't quite live up to the hype." A bitter edge crept into Kurt's voice. "Anyway, he sent his regards and a beautiful bouquet of callas from California." Kurt gestured half-heartedly to a vibrant display of pure white flowers fairing much better than both of them in the pouring rain.

"That's too bad," Sebastian said, a little unconvincingly. "Believe it or not, I was really rooting for you guys."

"Look, Smythe," Kurt barked, trying to keep the tremble from his voice, "as amusing as dredging up all my pain is for you, I'm not doing this _now_, and I'm definitely not doing it _here_. So, if you'll excuse me…"

Kurt turned, slipping slightly on the slick grass as he headed away from the grave, his heart pulling in all directions. He wasn't ready to leave Carole just yet, but he was, forced into doing something he didn't want to do by circumstances beyond his control. A few feet away he made the decision to turn around, stand his ground, demand that the meerkat-faced interloper leave, but a soft voice, softer than the rain and even more poignant, stopped him.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Kurt hissed, starting to feel the chill of the rain for the first time that day.

Sebastian walked toward Kurt, hands shoved into his pockets, face sincere and repentant. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to cause you more pain. Far from it. I just…"

"You just what?" Kurt asked, his voice still biting but feeling more curious than angry.

Sebastian looked up into the rain himself, hiding for a moment from Kurt's scrutiny.

"I was just hoping to see old Kurt again. You know, the one who didn't put up with my bullshit."

"So, you're looking for a fight?" Kurt asked aghast, pulling a disgusted face.

"Uh, no," Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. He looked down at his expensive black shoes sinking into the shallow mud. "I'm not good at this," he admitted. "Comforting people. It's never really been my forte. I just thought that, you know, if I got you sparring with me, it might…I don't know…help…"

Kurt smirked at the man in the ruined Armani suit shrinking beneath his gaze.

"So, you want to help me?"

"Yeah, well, I'm kind of shocked myself." Sebastian looked back at Kurt, his sea green eyes smiling through a fan of long eyelashes.

Kurt bit his lip, stifling a laugh.

"Look," Sebastian said, continuing his way over to Kurt, "I don't suppose you want to spend the next three hours shaking hands and eating tuna casserole. Why don't you come with me and we'll…I don't know…do something."

Kurt waited a moment for the catch that always accompanied an offer from Sebastian Smythe. This time, there wasn't one.

Sebastian countered Kurt's look of indecision with another question.

"If you could do one thing right now, what would it be?" he asked, rephrasing the question and hoping this time for an answer.

Kurt had meant to say, "I really want to get away from the pain."

It would have been the truest words he'd spoken in years.

But what he ended up saying was, "I really want to get away from the rain."

Sebastian smiled.

"Now that I think I can do."

Sebastian walked past him, starting ahead to where he had parked his black Porsche at the curb. Kurt watched Sebastian, but he didn't follow, still a little confused by this unpredictable man's motives.

Sebastian turned back to Kurt. Seeing he hadn't moved, he extended a hand.

"Come on, Hummel," he said, his voice soft despite his words. "I'm not looking forward to drowning out here."

Kurt tilted his head quizzically.

"What are you _really_ doing here?"

Sebastian sighed a long, drawn out breath, as if he had just been caught red-handed.

"I'm in Westerville, visiting my folks. I saw the obit in the paper. I didn't know if…" Sebastian's cocky attitude deflated a bit. "I just thought you might need a friend."

Kurt felt a smile growing, just slightly, on his otherwise numb face.

"And you're sure you weren't here hoping to see Blaine?" Kurt asked, peering at Sebastian through narrow eyelids.

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Well, nowhere in that obit did it say 'funeral hosted by Blaine Anderson', so no. I came here looking for you."

Kurt shook his head and smiled. Only Sebastian Smythe could make a truly tasteless comment resemble a compliment.

Kurt stepped forward. He looked at Sebastian's still outstretched hand and took it in his. Sebastian might have sucked in a sharp breath at the contact, but the reaction was so subtle, so silent, Kurt almost didn't hear it. Not much registered after Kurt took Sebastian's hand; not the relentless stinging rain, not the gloomy clouds overheard, not the long walk around the numerous mud puddles to the car waiting for them. The only thing Kurt felt after his hand touched Sebastian's, the only thing that grounded him for the rest of the day, was a welcome, all-encompassing warmth that he hadn't felt in years.


	10. Gabapentin

**A/N:** _This is a short, kind of sad little drabble (343 words) that came from an unexpected source - my husband who's at work reading my fanfic while sorting Gabapentin, an anti-seizure medication. Warning for vague mention of illness. Future fic, romance, au, angst._

Sebastian loved to sleep. So many wonderful things happened at bedtime, and they all ended with a nice, refreshing slumber, wrapped up in his husband's arms. He always looked forward to nighttime, but this night in particular seemed sinister, foreboding. Sebastian twisted in bed, unable to sleep, afraid of what might happen to Kurt if he didn't hear him…if he didn't wake up in time. The seizures were a new symptom, one that the doctors hadn't warned them about. They cropped up suddenly over dinner. The first night in weeks they were able to go out some place special, and this stupid illness had to interfere the way it always did. Just when they thought they had it handled; just when they fooled themselves into thinking they were one step ahead. There was no peace. There was no rest. There was no escaping the fear.

Except Kurt didn't look afraid. He slept like a baby, curled up by Sebastian's side, a small smile on his lips. He sighed from time to time, deeply and content. Sebastian smirked at his adorable husband. Kurt slept like this because he knew Sebastian would sit up, stressed and burdened with worry and anxiety, making sure he was okay.

Sebastian Smythe – guardian angel.

Sebastian glanced over at Kurt's bedside table and took inventory of all his medications. The biggest amber bottle facing him was the newest of the bunch. Gabapentin. Sebastian sighed.

"I'm counting on you, you stupid, orange, motherfucker," Sebastian whispered.

Sebastian held Kurt tight against him, knowing there was no way he was getting back to sleep. He watched the numbers on the clock change as the minutes ticked slowly by, and started a mental checklist for the day to come.

Hire a maid. Kurt would hate it, but it had to be done.

Buy a dog. A special dog. The kind that sensed seizures before they happened.

Call Burt. He would need to see his son.

Then, Sebastian would sit down and start planning the vacation of a lifetime.

It might just last a lifetime.


	11. Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

**A/N:** _Written for the prompt 'BDSM'. Rated M for bondage, heat and ice play. Future-fic. AU. Dom!Kurt Sub!Sebastian. Sebastian goes to Scandals looking to get laid and runs into an innocent looking man he can't wait to get on his knees. Things change drastically once Sebastian gets him home._

Kurt watched the white wax melt around the lit wick, the golden flame flickering every time Kurt breathed. The melting process fascinated him, his gaze fixated on a single drop that formed and grew as more hot liquid wax joined it. Then, with a pregnant pause and a slight bounce, it broke free and fell. Sebastian hissed as the scorching hot droplet made contact with his skin, sparking off a fantastic array of sensations – a piercing moment of intense heat which bled away almost immediately to an erotic crackle as the hot liquid cooled and hardened. Another drip joined it, then another, wax dropping like tiny explosions and igniting every nerve in Sebastian's body. With a wicked giggle, Kurt poured a line of hot wax down Sebastian's chest, threatening to travel lower, to more sensitive, delicate areas of skin. Sebastian's green eyes went wide with fear. He tugged on the leather restraints that kept him tethered to the bed frame, clenching his teeth in anticipation of the pain.

"Don't worry," Kurt purred. "I'm not sure you're ready for that yet…but soon."

It sounded like a threat _and_ a promise. Secured by a restrictive metal cock ring, Sebastian's cock ached.

Kurt grinned, a devilish curl of his tempting pink lips that accentuated the mischief shining in his blue-grey eyes. He crouched over Sebastian's body like a cat; but not a sweet, docile house cat. More like a wild and untamed jungle predator, and Sebastian, hands locked above his head in thick, leather cuffs chained to the wooden slats of his headboard, felt an awful lot like prey – weak, vulnerable, helpless.

Another drop hit Sebastian's skin, dangerously close to his nipple, and he bucked up. Kurt's grin slipped immediately to a terrifying frown. He put a hand to Sebastian's chest, right in the center of a patch of thick wax, and pushed down hard. Sebastian groaned, his skin stinging beneath Kurt's hand. He fell back hard on the mattress.

"Bad dog!" Kurt growled, bearing perfect, white teeth. "Now sit! And stay…"

Sebastian watched Kurt sit up and stare down at him with blank eyes, but he could see Kurt's mind working. Kurt sat like a statue, his body wrapped in sinful black vinyl, such a stark contrast from the outfit he wore when Sebastian approached him at Scandals.

Bored, horny, and alone, Sebastian had gone out to the bar, prowling for someone to wrap their mouth around his dick. He stumbled on Kurt, sitting on a barstool, nursing a Shirley Temple. Sebastian usually went for the muscular, body builder type; guys who dressed in jeans and t-shirts, and generally had an IQ to match their shoe size. Kurt' s long, lean body draped in head to toe Alexander McQueen and straddling the boundary between masculine and feminine mystique definitely did not fit Sebastian's image of a perfect one-night stand. But pickings were slim, and Kurt, with a demure blush rising to his porcelain cheeks and his wide, innocent blue eyes made Sebastian's blood boil. He salivated at the thought of getting this frightened looking man on his knees.

How did the tables turn so drastically?

The wax travelled down the candle and settled on Kurt's hand, forming drips and rivers that hardened almost on contact, but Kurt didn't even flinch. Sebastian swallowed hard as Kurt's eyes swept over him. Sebastian was used to lovers looking at him. Usually he preened under the appreciative gaze of someone he intended on fucking, but for some reason this was different. He felt exposed. He gritted his teeth, desperate to regain some control.

"So, is that all you've got, princess?" Sebastian murmured, recapturing his cocky grin.

Kurt took a moment to respond, tilting his head curiously.

"Princess?" he repeated. Then he laughed. "Is that what you see when you look at me?"

Sebastian hadn't given it any thought. 'Princess' was just one of his patented insults.

"No," he said seriously. "It's not."

Kurt extinguished the flame of the candle with his fingers, setting the taper aside. He crawled slowly over Sebastian's body, inching over his wax covered chest until he looked deep into his eyes. Sebastian could smell Kurt's sweet vanilla scent. It seemed to cover every inch of him. Kurt bit his lip. Sebastian watched the teeth work over the delicate skin. He wanted those lips on his skin. He burned to find out if Kurt tasted like vanilla, too.

"Then, what do you see?" Kurt asked, mouth hovering dangerously close to Sebastian's eager lips. "What do you see when you look at me?"

Sebastian waited a beat, not wanting to rush into an answer.

"I think you're stronger than you appear," he started.

Kurt sat back, his brow furrowed.

"Do I look weak?" he asked.

"You…you did…" Sebastian stammered, "you know, before…at Scandals."

"Hmm," Kurt hummed as he nodded, considering this. "What else?"

"I think…I think you're sexy…"

Kurt chuckled.

"Sexy?" He sounded almost disbelieving as he repeated the word. "You think I'm sexy?"

Sebastian saw Kurt's walls, carefully constructed around vinyl catsuits and leather cuffs, come down a little. Kurt's cold eyes softened.

"Yeah." Sebastian's lips twisted into a more genuine smile than his signature cocky grin. "In fact, I think this whole BDSM thing you got going here…super-hot."

Kurt nodded again, reaching beside him to a bowl that Sebastian had noticed only briefly before, but had no idea what Kurt had put in it. He saw Kurt pull out a single cube of ice and slip it into his mouth.

"Go on," Kurt said around the ice, reaching for another piece. Sebastian's eyes followed Kurt's hands as he placed another piece in his mouth.

"I think…you seem really interesting," Sebastian continued, finding it hard to talk while Kurt moved the ice around his mouth, licking over the blocks with his delicious looking tongue. "I would really like to get to know you."

"Know me, huh?" Kurt mumbled. He started biting down on the ice, cracking the blocks into pieces and swallowing them, reaching into the bowl for more. "Well, I'll tell you what…let me finish and maybe I'll let you take me out for coffee."

Sebastian smirked. He thought over his situation for the moment. Tied up with Kurt on top of him; he figured sex was pretty much guaranteed.

"I think I can do that," he said, relaxing into the mattress and waiting for whatever Kurt had planned.

Kurt's sudden and menacing grin wiped the smirk off Sebastian's face.

"If that's what you think…"

Kurt moved quickly, crawling back down to Sebastian's legs and sinking his mouth over his straining erection. The intense cold of ice still melting in Kurt's mouth turned ache into agony. Sebastian screwed up his face, his eyes squeezing shut. He bit hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming.

Kurt raked a hand down Sebastian's chest, nails tearing through the wax and scoring marks over Sebastian's sore skin.

Sebastian's screaming couldn't be helped this time.

Kurt pulled off Sebastian's cock and laughed.

"If that's what you think, then you're in for a long night."


	12. Time Enough to Forgive

**A/N:** _One-shot written for the prompt 'vampire'. Sebastian is a vampire, desperate to save his dying boyfriend, but Kurt doesn't want to become a vampire. No blood or gore, just conversation. AU. Supernatural. Romance. Soulmates. Vampire!Sebastian, Dying!Kurt_

Death wants to hide. It crawls into dark spaces, away from the light…away from the living. But death need not be so afraid. It can be just as bright, just as beautiful. Some beauty endures, regardless if it lives or dies.

Sebastian looks down at Kurt's face, growing ever paler in the fading light, and smiles.

"In a moment, we'll be together forever, my love," Sebastian sighs, brushing the hair from Kurt's eyes. Kurt blinks weakly, his glassy eyes fighting to focus on Sebastian's burning red ones. Kurt tries to shake his head.

"I…I don't want you to do this…" Kurt objects. "It's my time."

"Shhh." Sebastian hushes Kurt, his smile growing ever wider. "I know you're scared, but it's alright. You'll be happy with me. I promise."

Kurt sighs.

"You're not listening to me," Kurt says, sounding defeated. "You never listen."

Sebastian doesn't want to be angry with his beloved, but Kurt's constant refusal wears on his patience.

"What are you so worried about?" Sebastian hisses, harsher than he intends. "Your soul? You don't believe in God or heaven anyway! So why not stay here with me forever?"

"It's…it's just not natural, Sebastian."

Sebastian can feel Kurt's breathing become slow and faint. He shakes his head.

"And _this_ is natural?" Sebastian can't help his anger now, can't help it when Kurt seems so willing to throw away everything they have together. "Dying before you've even had the chance to live is natural? Leaving me here alone…_that's_ natural?"

Sebastian feels hot tears threatening to fall, but he refuses to let them.

No. Kurt doesn't know. He doesn't understand. There is too much at stake to give in to petty, stupid, human things…things that lesser beings would consider _natural_.

"Sebastian," Kurt breathes painfully. "I love you. I do…but please…don't do anything stupid."

Sebastian smiles. Kurt had just given him his loophole.

_Don't do anything stupid._

Sitting here and watching Kurt die would be stupid.

Not doing something to save Kurt's life would be stupid.

Anyone would agree.

"Don't worry, my darling," Sebastian says soothingly, "I won't do anything stupid. I promise."

Sebastian kisses Kurt gently, lingering over his lips, waiting for the perfect moment…the moment between the end of life and the beginning of death when Sebastian will make his move.

Maybe Kurt will be angry. Maybe Kurt will even hate him.

Sebastian doesn't care. Kurt has all of eternity to forgive him.


	13. Never Have I Ever

**A/N:** _Written for the prompt 'drunk'. Kurt is alone on Valentine's Day and calls for a male escort. He never expects Sebastian to show up at his door. The two decide to play Never Have I Ever. Eager to stump Sebastian, Kurt stumbles upon a secret Sebastian never intended to tell Kurt. AU. Angst. Future fic. Mention of past!Klaine. Warning for alcohol use._

Kurt watched Sebastian set up two shot glasses on the kitchen bar. He pulled a bottle of Cuervo Gold down from Kurt's cabinet. He unscrewed the cap and filled both glasses to the top, then set the bottle aside on the counter with a thunk.

"Isn't it kind of lame that we're playing 'Never Have I Ever'?" Kurt asked, circling the rim of his shot glass with the tip of his finger. "What, are we in high school or something?"

"Isn't it lame that you called an escort for Valentine's Day?" Sebastian smirked.

Kurt's jaw dropped, but his own smirk returned full-force.

"Isn't it lame that _you're_ a male escort?" Kurt countered.

Sebastian, raising his shot to his lips, stopped and chuckled.

"Fair enough," he said, and then downed the shot quickly, grimacing as the bitter liquid dried his mouth and burned his throat.

"Hey," Kurt said, watching Sebastian refill his glass. "We haven't started playing yet!"

"I figured I'd get a head start," Sebastian said. "You look like a light weight."

Kurt pulled a face, mimicking Sebastian by mouthing his words.

"Here, I'll give you an easy one, princess. Let you catch up." Sebastian raised his glass and said with a sly grin, "Never have I ever fucked Blaine Anderson."

Kurt watched Sebastian for a second, eyes growing wide as he moved the glass to his lips, but then he smiled, and put his full glass back down. Kurt frowned, downing his shot with a single snap of his head.

"That was a low blow, Smythe," Kurt groaned,

"That's what I'm here for." Sebastian winked. "Your turn."

Kurt refilled his own glass, trying to come up with something that might shock even Sebastian Smythe. He looked into Sebastian's green eyes.

"Never have I ever…had a foursome."

Without batting an eyelash, Sebastian drank the shot.

"Ugh," Kurt commented. "You whore."

Sebastian's blank expression shifted for just a second at Kurt's words, but his unimpressed demeanor stayed firmly cemented in place.

"All part of the job," he said, refilling his glass. "Never have I ever worn women's clothes."

Sebastian's Cheshire cat grin returned when Kurt took his shot.

"Fashion has no gender," Kurt muttered petulantly. He thought harder, pouring the gold liquid slower to give himself more time. He knew that the real goal of the game was to get the other person drunk first while learning their deepest secrets, but that wasn't good enough for Kurt. He wanted to stump Sebastian. Find the one thing he hadn't done, hadn't even thought of doing. Kurt smiled a loopy grin at the one thing he thought Sebastian would balk at.

Kurt giggled, the effects of the tequila taking hold.

_Fucking bastard was right_, Kurt thought.

"Never have I ever…" Kurt drawled, drawing out the next few words, "wanted to make love to Kurt Hummel."

That wasn't what he meant to say. He meant to say kiss. At any rate, he wouldn't have used the words 'make love' if he was in his right mind.

Sebastian blinked down at his tequila, but then lifted it to his lips and drank it, lowering the glass to the counter and flipping it over.

"There," Sebastian said flatly. "You win."

Kurt sobered up immediately.

"Wait…what?" Kurt watched Sebastian cap the bottle of tequila and return it to its cabinet. "What…you can't…"

"Yeah," Sebastian said. "Yeah, I did. So what?"

"Did…as in…not anymore?" Kurt didn't understand why he felt jilted.

"I…look, it's late…"

"I don't believe you," Kurt interrupted quickly.

"What?"

"I don't believe you," he repeated. "If you want to make love to me, prove it."

Sebastian chuckled, the sound more sad than sardonic.

"You're drunk," Sebastian said. "You're lonely. And I'm no one's consolation prize."

Kurt watched Sebastian pick up his coat, and his heart pounded, trying to think of something that would make Sebastian stay.

"I…I paid you for tonight," he said lamely. Kurt cringed when the words left his mouth, but the tequila had made him tactless and stupid. He could have no more stopped those words from coming out of his mouth than he could have changed the weather.

Sebastian reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a thin slip of paper. He ripped it in half and put it down on the counter. Kurt's eyes focused and recognized it as the check he had written earlier that night.

"I'm not going to be your whore."

Sebastian intended to leave a shocked Kurt where he stood, but he stopped. He turned and looked Kurt in the face, surprised to see a glimmer of something that looked like disappointment. He dropped his coat on the bar stool beside him and closed in on Kurt. He wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist and threaded a hand through his hair. With one meaningful gaze in Kurt's astonished blue eyes, Sebastian kissed him soundly, breathing Kurt in for all he was worth. He curled his fingers around Kurt's hair, and scratched his nails lightly over the small of his back. Kurt whimpered, opening his lips just enough to let Sebastian slip his tongue through. Kurt melted at the feel of Sebastian's tongue caressing his own, and for a moment, he held his breath.

Sebastian pulled away too quickly, leaning his forehead against Kurt's, warring with himself over what to do next.

"Tomorrow night, if you still want me, you know how to get a hold of me."

Sebastian left a light peck on Kurt's lips. He picked up his coat and walked out of Kurt's apartment before he could change his mind.


	14. Brittany

**A/N:** _I got a sort of obscure message in my ask from an anon - Brittany. I wasn't sure if that was a prompt or not, so I decided it was. Warning: for overall creepiness and mention of death (not Kurt or Sebastian). Kind of crazy Brittany. Future-fic, AU. Mention of minor injury and past!Klaine._

_You have such a beautiful boyfriend, Sebastian._

It was the most random text message Sebastian had ever gotten. He thought for a moment that it was from the man himself, reminding Sebastian for the thousandth time how fucking lucky he was that he had left Blaine once and for all to live a life of sin in New York with him, but this text came from an unknown and blocked phone number.

Sebastian quickly typed a reply.

_Yeah, I know. So what of it, creeper?_

Maybe it was Blaine, sore and licking his wounds, deciding to be an immature dick. He just hoped Kurt hadn't bought himself a new iPhone and was texting him from it. It would be a lonely night on the sofa for Sebastian if he had just called Kurt a creeper.

The creepy texts continued.

_He has such gorgeous blue eyes._

Sebastian smirked as he raced for the subway before the doors closed.

_His skin is soft, like the petals of a rose._

Sebastian furrowed his brow. It had to be Kurt. Sebastian had just sent him roses…three dozen sterling roses. He suddenly felt completely and uncomfortably aroused, wedged in between an older, Japanese lady and a young, athletic college student on the cramped train car. Yes, his skin was soft like rose petals. Sebastian always told him exactly that. The thought of running his fingers over Kurt's skin had him fully hard and wondering how quickly he could get to their apartment and be back to work over his lunch break.

_Yes, beautiful. Tell me how soft your skin is. Are you touching yourself now?_

He waited for Kurt's answer, waited for Kurt to tell him that yes, he was touching himself. That he was naked in their bed, wrapped in the Egyptian cotton sheets, palming himself through the soft fabric, moaning like a whore…moaning Sebastian's name.

_His hair is fluffy…like the fur of a cat._

Sebastian re-read the text again to be sure he read it right. No…that wasn't Kurt. That didn't sound like Kurt at all. Kurt hated cats, for one. And fluffy? Sebastian couldn't recall Kurt ever using the word fluffy.

Someone was messing with him.

_Okay…I'm done with this now. Who the fuck is this?_

Sebastian tapped his foot as he waited for an answer. He didn't have time for this shit. He had three meetings this morning and he was already running ten minutes late.

_Those were beautiful roses you sent. Beautiful roses for your beautiful boyfriend._

Sebastian felt himself go cold, his mind detached from his body. Physically he stood frozen, making no move to blink or breathe, even as his subconscious acknowledged that he had just missed his stop. His mind was screaming to make sense of these stupid texts, to find the sender and throttle them for this asinine prank wasting his time.

His heart stopped, squeezed to a halt by the fingers of dread.

_So beautiful to look at. So beautiful on the outside. Do you think he's just as beautiful inside?_

Sebastian looked around him, expecting someone on the train to have the answers, to tell him exactly what was going on. Sebastian quickly composed a text to Kurt's phone.

_Hey, Kurt. Just wondering how you're doing. Could you send me a text back?_

At the next stop, Sebastian jumped off the train, crossed the tracks, and waited on the platform for a train that would take him back out of the city towards home. He stared at his iPhone screen, willing Kurt to text him back and tell him everything was alright.

Sebastian relaxed when a text from Kurt's phone flashed on his screen.

_Nope…you're talking to me, handsome, not your pretty boyfriend. ;)_

Sebastian felt his knees wobble as he read the message.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Sebastian roared, looking down the tracks for the train. He glanced around and found a pillar with the train schedule posted on it. Ten minutes till the next train.

Sebastian read the text again, and decided he couldn't wait. He abandoned the platform, racing down the stairs and barreling up the street.

_Do you think he's just as beautiful inside?_

What did that mean? What the fuck did that mean? Why would someone who had access to Kurt's phone be asking Sebastian that question?

Sebastian tried not to think about it as he raced back uptown.

Brittany loved looking at the beautiful unicorn. His shimmering blue eyes, like the clear summer sky, opened wide with surprise as they focused on her. Her fingers brushed his hand and she felt how heavenly soft and smooth his skin was. His hair, chestnut brown with golden highlights, reminded her of her best friend, her favorite cat, her only constant and true companion all throughout her childhood. She nearly broke when he died a year and a half ago, having overdosed in the night. She couldn't believe it, not after he had worked so hard to successfully kick his ecstasy addiction. But she saw the signs. He had stopped eating, slept too much, sputtered about madly sometimes, then lay completely still with a glassy stare, his chest barely moving when he breathed. She should have done something, should have found him help sooner. Now he was gone and she had nothing left. Nothing at all.

Maybe this unicorn could be her new friend, or even better, her new pet.

She twirled a strand of her long blonde hair around her finger as she toyed with his boyfriend. At first, she just complimented him, but he called her a creeper, and it made her angry.

Angrier than the day the WB canceled _One Tree Hill_.

Angrier than when she lost the election for student body president.

Angrier than when her girlfriend left her for some singing waitress.

She had just been to see them. She smiled at the memory.

The amount of blood in two human bodies astounded her.

Showering and finding something clean to wear almost made her late for this delivery.

She looked Kurt over from head to toe, imagining what it would be like to take him home with her. She had a collar she thought would fit him just fine. It was brown leather and covered with rhinestones. It would set off his porcelain skin perfectly.

She sighed.

Just looking at Kurt made her feel happy. Unicorns made the world more beautiful. With Kurt as her pet, there were no limits to what Brittany could do.

Brittany giggled as she rinsed the blades of the kitchen shears. Calculating quickly in her head, she figured Sebastian wouldn't be back for over an hour after her last text message from Kurt's phone.

It was time to see if Kurt was as beautiful as he seemed.

Sebastian could taste blood in his mouth as his feet pounded the pavement. He dodged buses, leapt from cab to cab, was cursed at in more languages than he had ever heard in his life. He texted Kurt's phone feverishly as he ran, spending more time with his head bent over his screen than actually looking where he was going. He collided head on with a parked car and flipped completely onto his back in the street. A small crowd of onlookers tried to help him, but he shoved them aside and sped away.

"Kurt!" he screamed at his phone. "Kurt! Answer your fucking phone, Kurt! Answer the God damned fucking phone you stupid son of a bitch!"

Kurt didn't answer, and the creepy texter didn't send any more messages.

Too much time spent not knowing.

Sebastian didn't hate Kurt. He loved Kurt. He loved Kurt more than he could admit, even to himself.

He hated himself for not saying it.

He hated himself for being an ass.

He hated how proud he was that he managed to convince Kurt to break up with Blaine, but he wouldn't change a thing.

He wanted Kurt.

He needed Kurt.

"Kurt, where the fuck are you!?"

Streets turned into sidewalks, sidewalks into stairs. Down a carpeted hallway he flew, straight into the elevator and stopped. He tried to slow his frantic breathing, bordering on the verge of passing out, but nothing worked. His body wouldn't obey. His mind swirled with a hundred possibilities.

All of those cryptic messages turned into words that he could hear in his head.

_You have such a beautiful boyfriend, Sebastian._

_He has such gorgeous blue eyes._

_His skin is soft, like the petals of a rose._

_Do you think he's just as beautiful inside?_

He fumbled with his keys, forcing them into the key hole, kicking at the door with his foot.

"Kurt!" Sebastian screamed. "Kurt, open this door! Kurt!"

The door swung open.

It was never locked.

Sebastian stood still in the quiet apartment.

Quiet and empty apartment.

Sebastian slowly stepped inside.

He heard something crunch beneath his feet.

He looked down and saw the hardwood floor littered with broken glass.

There were roses everywhere – on the floor, on the kitchen counter, on the sink.

Sebastian walked over to the counter. A half-full vase sat beside a pair of kitchen shears and Kurt's iPhone…the screen shattered, stained with something sticky, something that looked like blood.

Suddenly Sebastian noticed blood everywhere – drops on the floor, drops on the counter, drops on the petals of the roses and trailing into the sink.

Sebastian wanted to scream.

At some point, his body finally caught up with his head, and he was screaming, before he even realized it, before his brain even knew. Crying and screaming, grabbing the shears in his hands and wringing them in his fists, unsure of what he was doing, of what might have happened here.

"Kurt!" he screamed, his voice broken, his body broken, his mind and heart shattering. "Kurt!"

"Sebastian?" a high, sing-song voice called out from the bathroom. "Sebastian? Are you home already?"

Sebastian stopped screaming, holding the shears defensively. He watched the door open slowly, and Kurt stepped out, his hand wrapped liberally with white gauze.

"Sebastian? Honey?" Kurt approached Sebastian slowly. His gorgeous boyfriend looked a wreck – eyes wide and red, hair disheveled, cheeks flushed. He looked like he'd gone mad, holding the kitchen shears in one hand as if ready to strike anyone who came close to him.

Sebastian focused on Kurt, alive and well, face pale, eyes full of confusion and concern. Sebastian dropped the shears. They fell to the floor with a loud clunk.

"Kurt?" Sebastian whispered through quivering lips. His knees gave out, and he crumpled to the floor, eyes still locked on Kurt's face.

Kurt threw himself at his panic-stricken boyfriend, curling into his embrace, wrapping his arms around Sebastian's trembling body.

"Kurt?" Sebastian repeated. "Kurt? What happened? Where were you?" Sebastian started rambling, asking questions as soon as he thought of them. "You didn't answer your phone? Why didn't…"

Sebastian's mouth still worked around the words, but no sound came out.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt said, cradling Sebastian's head in his hands. "Your beautiful roses arrived and like a fool I dropped them. I tried to clean up the glass, but I cut my hand." Kurt raised his wrapped hand to show Sebastian. Sebastian eyed the bandaged hand, reaching out to touch Kurt for the first time. He bunched his hands into Kurt's shirt and pulled his boyfriend on top of him.

"Oomph!" Kurt chuckled as he shifted against Sebastian, making himself more comfortable. "Anyway, I dropped my phone, and then I stepped on it like a moron. It still works, but the screen is ruined. The delivery girl was helping me with the roses while I bandaged my hand. Didn't she tell you?"

Kurt raised his head and searched the kitchen.

"She was here just a minute ago. Didn't you see her?"

"No," Sebastian muttered. "No, there was no one here when I got home."

Kurt shrugged, but Sebastian felt sick.

"I guess she left. She was kind of depressed. She mentioned something about seeing her ex-girlfriend."

Sebastian felt normalcy returning. His heart sought out the pace of Kurt's heart and matched it, slowing back to a comfortable beat. He breathed in the scent of Kurt's shampoo, letting the sweet smell of vanilla soothe his senses, convincing him that everything was alright.

Kurt wasn't in any danger.

Whatever happened had been a fluke. A horrible prank.

Sebastian and Kurt could get on with their lives.

"The flowers are beautiful," Kurt said, smoothly slipping the fingers of his unbandaged hand between the buttons of Sebastian's shirt, letting his fingertips play over his skin.

"Really?" Sebastian unbuttoned his shirt, giving Kurt more room to tease and explore.

"Yup, even if the delivery girl was a bit of a fruit loop." Kurt tugged Sebastian's shirt out from his pants, followed by his t-shirt, lifting both up over his abs so he could kiss Sebastian's muscular chest.

Sebastian chuckled.

"Fruit loop?" Sebastian sighed when Kurt's tongue traced over his collarbone. "How?"

"Well…" Kurt murmured between kisses and licks, "she kept saying…that my hair…reminded her of her cat…"

Sebastian held his breath. Over the sounds of Kurt's humming and his lips kissing his skin, he heard footsteps walking quickly down the hall, getting closer.

_Knock, knock._

Sebastian looked up and saw the door open wider with each knock. A face peeked around the door and blue eyes found both men huddled in each other's arms on the floor.

The face, hidden beneath a silk screened cap and framed by long, blonde hair, smiled at them.

"Ever More Florist," the young man said. Sebastian could see a few lavender buds beneath the man's chin. "I have a delivery for Mr. Kurt Hummel."


	15. Easy Like Sunday Morning

**A/N:** _Written for the prompt 'Sunday', here is a peek at how Kurt and Sebastian spend their Sunday Morning. Rated M for anal sex._

Kurt closed his eyes and smiled, stretching out his limbs like a cat lying in the golden sunlight, not worrying that the filtered light might be tanning his skin. The soft sheets beneath him caressed his naked body in such an erotic way as he swayed, his cock rutting gently over the decadent Egyptian cotton.

"Lift your hips a little higher, gorgeous," Sebastian requested, his voice thick with lust and tight with every ounce of his restraint.

Kurt raised an eyelid, turning his head just enough to regard his boyfriend – the look of deep concentration on his face, the way his jaw set and his brow furrowed. Kurt huffed with mild annoyance, grabbing a pillow beside his head and shoving it beneath his hips, adjusting it carefully so he could still get that delicious friction around his erection.

"Mmm," Sebastian moaned when Kurt finally settled into his cotton cocoon, "that's it, baby. Thanks."

Kurt breathed in deep through his nose, relaxing as Sebastian resumed his smooth movements, enjoying the slow drag of skin against skin. Kurt admired Sebastian's strength. Physically, it was one of the most attractive things about him, how he could keep himself hovering over Kurt's body for so long without a single shudder, without any sign of exhaustion. Sebastian's athleticism made sex exciting and interesting. Hard and fast against the living room wall, with Kurt's legs wrapped around Sebastian's waist and Sebastian supporting all of his weight, was by far one of Kurt's favorite positions. Sebastian had more endurance than Kurt could even fathom, and Sunday was the day they put it to the test.

Mid-morning sex in front of the picture window in the bedroom - this was how Kurt and Sebastian started every Sunday. Some people went to church. Some went out to brunch with their families. Kurt and Sebastian had their own Sunday morning ritual. It began spontaneously the first weekend Kurt moved into Sebastian's penthouse and ever since that first time they had never missed a single Sunday. Even when they fought, Sunday sex was sacred. They pulled the blinds open wide to let in the sun, the head of the bed pushed right up against the glass, and there they stayed, for hours most times. It wasn't just plain old sex. It was the purest essence of making love, of being connected. Being together as lovers this way wasn't about the destination; it was all about the journey.

"G-god, Kurt," Sebastian moaned, "baby…I'm gonna cum…"

Kurt reached out a hand and grabbed a hold of Sebastian's thigh, pulling his body down on top of him and stilling his hips.

"Don't you dare," Kurt scolded. "We still have a few hours before our lunch date with Nick and Jeff, and I intend to spend every remaining minute right here."

Sebastian shuddered, trying to calm himself, pushing away yet another orgasm.

"You…you're such a bitch," he groaned, taking long, deep breaths.

"Yup," Kurt said, turning his face back to the sunlight, "but you love me."

Sebastian chuckled as he started to move again, leaning down to kiss the spot where Kurt's shoulder blades met.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I love you."


	16. Laundry Day

**A/N:** _From the anon prompt requesting 'domestic Kurtbastian'. Newlywed Kurt and Sebastian trying to negotiate doing laundry. 511 words. Future-fic. AU._

Sebastian stood impatiently balancing his basket of dirty laundry on his hip, watching Kurt sort through his clothes.

"Come on, Kurt," Sebastian pleaded, "just give me your shit so I can do the laundry. We have reservations in a couple of hours."

"Pft," Kurt scoffed, separating his clothes into numerous piles on his bed. "Patience is a virtue."

"Ugh!" Sebastian groaned in frustration. He spotted a promising looking pile of t-shirts that had been neglected for more than ten minutes, and started loading them into the basket. Kurt's head snapped up to look at him, eyes wide with horror.

"Wh-what do you think you're doing?" Kurt screeched, grabbing Sebastian's wrist to stop his attack on the clothes.

"I'm trying to get to the wash before my clothes are actually out of style," Sebastian griped, watching with despair as Kurt rescued the few t-shirts Sebastian had managed to toss into the basket back out again.

"Too late," Kurt grumbled, laying the t-shirts back out on the bed.

Sebastian raised a foot and kicked Kurt lightly on the ass.

"Oomph!" Kurt fell forward, throwing out his arms to catch himself before he hit the bed.

"They're just t-shirts, Kurt," Sebastian whined. "Just give them to me so I can finish the wash."

"These aren't just t-shirts," Kurt said. "And they need to be steam cleaned or else they'll fade."

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Okay," he relented. "Well, what about those?" Sebastian pointed to a pile of jeans beside the t-shirts. Kurt shook his head, clucking his tongue, refusing to dignify Sebastian's question with a remark.

Sebastian dropped his head and sighed.

"So, how do you do your laundry then if nothing can go into the machine?"

"Well, I do some of them by hand," Kurt explained, "and the rest get dry cleaned."

"Dry cleaned?" Sebastian choked. "Your laundry must cost a fortune. We might as well just go out and buy you a whole new wardrobe. I think it'd be cheaper."

Kurt stopped mid-sort, dropping the sweater he was holding onto the bed.

"You know, you're right," Kurt said. He turned to Sebastian, his eyes twinkling, his mouth curled into a mischievous grin. "Dry cleaning this is going to be really expensive." Kurt wrapped his arms around Sebastian's waist, running his hands down his back and over his ass. Sebastian moaned as Kurt's hands ventured around to the front of his jeans. Sebastian closed his eyes, gripping the laundry basket tighter as Kurt's hands dipped into his pockets, brushing against his rapidly hardening cock. But then Kurt's hands were gone. Sebastian opened his eyes as Kurt pulled away. Kurt walked to the closet and grabbed his coat.

"Wait?" Sebastian stuttered in confusion. "Where are you going?"

"You do your laundry your way. I'll do my laundry mine." Kurt blew Sebastian a kiss. "I'm off to the mall. See you in a few."

Sebastian watched in a stupor as Kurt left, a little perplexed. Then a thought crossed his mind. He dropped his laundry basket and searched his pants pocket.

His wallet was gone.


	17. Welcome to My Rollercoaster

**A/N:** _Written for the prompt mpreg, Kurt is at the end of his pregnancy, and is an emotional wreck. Sebastian is rushing home to take care of his husband. Warning for mpreg._

Sebastian rushed through the crowded streets, dodging bicycle messengers and annoying cab drivers as he crossed against the light, racing to catch the subway and make his way uptown. All he could think of was Kurt, his Kurt home alone; his poor, miserable, pregnant husband waiting for Sebastian. Kurt, who could never get comfortable no matter where he sat or how he moved. Kurt, with his ankles swollen, trying to find the perfect position for the ottoman so he could get a little bit of relief.

Kurt, so close to the end of this roughshod journey, just a few weeks shy of his due date.

Images of a sullen Kurt propelled Sebastian along. He pushed people out of his way without realizing, and when his connecting train was running late, he bolted from the subway and ran the remaining seven blocks at full-speed, blowing by the doorman to their building with barely a nod of his head, bypassing the elevator, and sprinting up all thirty flights to their apartment.

Sebastian fumbled with his key, trying to shove it quickly into the lock, dropping it once in his haste.

He knew pregnancy would take a toll on Kurt, but he never realized just how much. Nauseous first-trimester Kurt was just too heartbreaking to watch. Fuck morning sickness. Kurt had all day sickness. It plagued him morning till evening, and even woke him from the rare, deep sleep. He could barely keep a single bite of food down. It hit him so hard that Sebastian was actually scared he would need to be hospitalized. But Kurt persevered. He rose above it all, even continuing to work while he suffered through the nausea, even designing a ground-breaking couture maternity line.

Constantly horny second-trimester Kurt came as a bit of an unexpected surprise. The nausea dissipated, almost as quickly as it had struck, and Kurt enjoyed something he hadn't really had before – curves. Sure he had always been muscular and in excellent physical shape, but developing curves on his body had been something new. He dressed to accentuate them, but he preferred seeing them unfettered. More than that, he enjoyed the way Sebastian looked at him, the way Sebastian desired him. Sex between them was constant, and had never been hotter. Kurt texted Sebastian constantly, telling the man in detail what he would do to him the minute he got home, all the dirty dreams he had about him when he napped in the afternoon, how Sebastian better 'get it while he can' before the baby came. Kurt's constant sexting was killing Sebastian. Most afternoons, trapped in his office, going over mergers and acquisitions, he asked himself why the fuck was he even working? He had a trust fund. What was he actually doing with his life that was more important than sucking off his gorgeous husband? It was all Sebastian could do from leaving early, or from locking the door and taking care of himself just to make it through the rest of the work day.

Kurt's insatiable sexual appetite got to the point where Kurt would greet Sebastian at the door most nights wearing nothing at all, and Sebastian didn't complain.

Overly hormonal and constantly anxious third-trimester Kurt was a different person entirely. Sebastian knew Kurt had a bitchy, and often times a dramatic side, but he never imagined that somewhere inside his husband lurked this strange contradiction of overwhelmed, despondent, hyper, tempermental, irrational, and, Sebastian feared, homicidal. His mood shifts were drastic. He was completely unpredictable.

Tonight was the perfect example of a typical unpredictable day. When Sebastian had left Kurt in the early morning, he was in a spectacularly good mood. He hadn't woken up crying and frustrated like he did on many occasions recently, plagued by terrible dreams where he left the baby on the bus, or dropped the baby on the floor. He even had one particularly disturbing dream where he traded the baby for a pair of Jimmy Choos.

He wasn't in pain – no cramps, no bloating. He even made Sebastian breakfast, and kissed him passionately good-bye.

Sebastian didn't hear a peep from him all day, and his stomach began to turn. Usually he got a text complaining that the eggs smelled funny, or that the Klopeks in 3040B were smuggling cats into their apartment.

Finally, at five o'clock, Sebastian received a text.

_To: Sebastian_

_You think I'm fat, don't you! That's why you hate me!_

Thus, prompting his sprint uptown.

Sebastian opened the apartment door and was greeted with darkness and silence.

Never a good sign.

"Kurt?" he called into the black room, frightened for a moment that Kurt hadn't waited for him to come home; that instead maybe he had left. "Kurt? Honey?"

A hushed sniffle answered him.

Sebastian felt relieved and frightened all at once.

What could have happened that Kurt would be crying softly in the dark?

What if something happened to the baby?

Sebastian closed and locked the door quickly, dropping his messenger bag and coat on the floor and walking through the darkened rooms, turning on lamps as he went.

"Kurt? Gorgeous? Please talk to me?"

He heard another sniffle, coming from the bedroom. The door hung open a crack, and a dim light glowed from inside. Sebastian pushed it open and peeked inside.

Kurt sat on the floor, head hanging low, legs crossed awkwardly in front of him. Sebastian could only see Kurt's back. He wore one of Sebastian's old, stretched and shapeless Harvard t-shirts, and his favorite grey yoga pants. Kurt wore them 24/7. They barely covered his ass, and Sebastian could see from the sides that they rolled in the front, tucked beneath his swollen belly. He held a gigantic pair of sewing shears in his hand. Laid out in front of him were every article of clothing he owned, cut into large, jagged-edged pieces.

"Sweetheart?" Sebastian approached Kurt carefully. "Whatcha doin'?"

"I'm hideous," Kurt whispered around a sob. "I'm a fat, hideous monster."

Sebastian kicked off his shoes and sat behind his husband, laying gentle hands on his shoulders.

"So, you cut up all your clothes because you think you're fat?" Sebastian asked, a little confused.

Kurt turned his face to look at him – eyes red and swollen, cheeks streaked with tears.

"What do I need them for anyway?" he screeched. "I'm never going to fit in them again!"

"Well, you're definitely not going to fit into them _now_," Sebastian joked, trying to lift Kurt's spirits, but soon realized it was a risky and dangerous move teasing a pregnant man holding a huge pair of scissors. Kurt's blue eyes turned to solid steel as they stared daggers at him.

"I knew it!" Kurt cried. "I knew you hated me because I'm fat!"

Kurt tried to scoot away, but Sebastian gently wrapped his arms around him, one hand holding him close, the other removing the shears from Kurt's trembling grip.

"I don't think you're fat," Sebastian said calmly. "I think you're gorgeous. I always have. I always will. Nothing in this world will ever change that."

Kurt's glare softened.

"Do you mean that?" he asked pitifully.

Sebastian kissed Kurt on the forehead.

"Of course I mean that," Sebastian cooed. "I love you."

Kurt looked like he was considering the validity of his answer for a moment. Then his face twisted into an ugly grimace.

"You're lying! You hate me! You think I'm a freak and you hate me! You're going to leave me for a woman!"

"What?" Sebastian asked, astonished at the change in subject.

"Yup," Kurt affirmed, trying to squirm away again, "because a pregnant man is a freak, but a pregnant woman is normal, so you're going to leave me for a woman!"

Sebastian didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He shook his head instead.

"Darling, you are not a freak. You're special. And there's nothing you could do that would make me leave you for anyone…especially not a woman."

Kurt settled down just a bit, relaxing in Sebastian's embrace, looking more defeated than relieved.

"Look, Kurt," Sebastian started. "I know this has been hard for you. So hard…I can't even imagine. The good news is, it's almost over. Then you and I will have our beautiful baby."

Kurt sniffed, looking down at the destroyed pile of clothes in front of him.

"So you don't think I'm fat?"

"No," Sebastian reassured him. "I don't think you're fat."

"And I tore up my clothes for nothing?"

Sebastian bit his lip.

"Well…"

Kurt sighed.

"Now what?" he asked, fingering one jagged edge mournfully.

"Can we…maybe…usher back in the era of super horny and constantly naked Kurt?"

Kurt answered with an elbow to Sebastian's mid-section.

"Oomph!" Sebastian moaned with the impact. "Well, it was worth a try. How about you climb into bed and do some insane damage to my AmEx card while I order us some Thai?"

Kurt smiled.

"That I can do," he said through a few final tears.

Sebastian smirked, kissing Kurt gently.

Kurt looked at the blissful expression on Sebastian's face when he pulled away.

"You're thinking about the era of super horny and constantly naked Kurt, aren't you?" Kurt asked.

"What can I say?" Sebastian said, helping Kurt up off the floor. "It was an amazing three months."


	18. Anniversary

**A/N:** _This is a one-shot from the anon prompt 'Anniversary'. Future fic, AU, romance, fluff._

Kurt struck the long, wooden match against the side of the box and watched fire engulf the tip. He approached the first candle on the cake. He touched the fiery tip to the first candle and smiled.

"The first time I met you, I hated you."

Sebastian scowled.

"You didn't hate me," Sebastian grumbled. "I contend that you were undeniably attracted to me."

"I hated you," Kurt repeated in a monotone.

"Impossible," Sebastian countered. "You eye-fucked me for twenty minutes at least."

"You were trying to steal my boyfriend."

"Yeah, well, you can't steal something that wants to be taken…ouch!"

Kurt put out the dying match on the back of Sebastian's hand, smirking at his yelp of pain. He struck another long match and lit the next candle.

"The next time I met you, I still hated you."

Sebastian rolled his eyes and huffed.

"In fact, I think I may have hated you even more…"

Sebastian grabbed the match. He reached over the cake and lit twenty more candles.

"Let's just assume that the next two dozen times or so, you hated me."

"Or, there's no assumption," Kurt confirmed, taking the match back. "I _did_ hate you."

"So, when did you start not hating him?"

Kurt and Sebastian both turned to the little boy with the striking green eyes and wavy, chestnut hair, sitting primly on his father's lap.

Sebastian looked back at Kurt with a knowing smirk, challenging Kurt to explain the complexities of their twisted relationship to their five-year-old grandson.

"Well," Kurt started carefully, concentrating on lighting the rest of the candles as he spoke, "a man grandpa loved very much broke his heart…"

Sebastian's smirk slipped at the heavy weight of regret in Kurt's voice. He reached out a hand and rested it gently on Kurt's shoulder.

"…and I was sad and alone for a long time. Then, one day, I was out with some friends when I ran into your Grandpa Sebastian…"

"If I remember correctly you were drunk as a skunk and singing half-naked on the stage at _Callbacks_…ouch!"

Sebastian reached down a hand to rub his shin where his son had just kicked him.

"Damnit! What's up with this family? That's _your_ son, Kurt!"

Kurt snickered, lighting a new match since the second one had died out. The little boy raised a hand to his face to hide his own giggling. Kurt looked down at him with a smile.

"Where were we, Andrew?" Kurt asked as the boy recovered.

"You were a singing drunk," Andrew's father answered for him. Kurt frowned.

"No, you see, that's _your_ son, Sebastian," Kurt said flatly. "Thank you, Seth."

The man winked at his father, and Kurt held his breath. The two of them, Seth and Andrew, looked so much like Sebastian, it was heartbreaking. But if anyone asked Sebastian, he would say they both looked like Kurt.

"So, grandpa took me home…"

"…and after lots of cursing and throwing up, we fell madly in love."

Sebastian wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and held him tight, watching as Kurt lit the final candles.

"That's a bit of an oversimplification, don't you think?" Kurt whispered so only Sebastian could hear.

"Well, what did I leave out?" Sebastian smiled against Kurt's cheek.

"You left out all of the long talks…"

"All of your whining and moping…"

Kurt elbowed Sebastian, who finally managed to dodge a hit.

"All of the fighting…" Kurt reminded him.

"All of the makeup sex…" Sebastian purred into his ear. Kurt blushed, remembering their round of makeup sex from just that morning.

"Our first kiss…"

In Central Park…in the rain…after a particularly nasty fight. Kurt would never forget it. It was one of the happiest moments of his life.

"How about all of the kisses after it?"

"Of course," Kurt agreed, lighting the last candle and blowing out the match. "One beautiful son…"

"And one gorgeous grandson…" Sebastian turned and looked at the little boy, momentarily occupied by his Flash action figure, "who looks just like his grandpa."

Sebastian turned Kurt's head to look at him and kissed him softly on the lips. The moment Sebastian pressed his lips against Kurt's it was like the first time; the same electric spark, the same breathless excitement. It always amazed Kurt how much emotion could be expressed in a single kiss.

Kissing Sebastian always felt this way.

It didn't matter that Sebastian's hair had more grey strands every year that passed, or that they looked forward less to the new musicals Kurt would star in, or the new mergers Sebastian would make, and looked more towards retirement. Sebastian would always be that cocky, self-assured ass that Kurt fell in love with.

Kurt might feel older, but Sebastian would never age.

"So, thirty-eight years of marriage," Sebastian said, unwilling to pull away from his husband's lips. "If you had it to do all over again, what would you change?"

The question startled Kurt. Sebastian had never asked him that before.

For a split second, Kurt gave it some thought.

_"I don't like you."_

_"Fun. I don't like you either."_

_"I don't like the way you talk to my boyfriend. I don't like your smirky little meerkat face. I don't like your obnoxious CW hair."_

_"So, your boyfriend cheats on you, you get drunk, and you have to rely on __**me**__ to get you home? Man, your life really sucks right now."_

_"Why are you defending him? He's such an ass!"_

_"I'm not defending him…I'm just…I'm so lonely without him…"_

_"I hate you!"_

_"Maybe, but you can't tell me you don't want me…"_

_"So, if you're going to fuck me, Smythe, then fuck me before I change my mind."_

_"No, Kurt. I want to make love to you, so if you're going to be a bitch about it, I'm willing to wait."_

_"So, what? You're leaving now? You got what you wanted, and now you're going to go? Fuck you, Sebastian!"_

_"No…because I'm not leaving without you. I'm not going anywhere. I want to marry you, asshole!"_

Kurt smiled.

"I wouldn't change a thing," Kurt admitted.

Sebastian raised his eyebrows.

"Really?" he said with a tone of disbelief.

Kurt kissed him again, slowly, savoring the sparks, enjoying the breathlessness. He smiled wider against Sebastian's lips when he felt his husband gasp.

"Not a thing."


	19. Once Upon a Bathroom

**AN: **_I combined two prompts - 'depraved' and 'sex in a bathroom' and this is what I came up with. Warnings for oral sex, infidelity, mention of Blaine and Klaine, not Blaine or Klaine friendly, and a little Kurt bitter resentment tossed in. Future fic. Angst. AU._

The bathroom stall shook with the force of Sebastian shoving Kurt up against the wall. Kurt gasped, startled for just a second. Then, his lips curled into a devilish grin. Kurt crashed their lips together, not so much kissing as devouring Sebastian's mouth in the process.

"God," Kurt moaned, snaking needy hands underneath Sebastian's shirt, "it's been so long…"

"Well," Sebastian said, his voice muffled against Kurt's neck, his hands fumbling with the zipper to Kurt's jeans, "if you went to a real college like NYU…"

"Ah!" Kurt slapped Sebastian on the shoulder. "You take that back!"

"If you went to NYU," Sebastian continued, undeterred, "we could do this all the time…in the dorm rooms…in the showers…"

"On your knees, Smythe," Kurt commanded, pushing on Sebastian's shoulders. "Payment for insulting my school."

"Why is it always me on my knees?" Sebastian asked, moving quickly down Kurt's body.

"Because my jeans cost three hundred dollars…" Kurt watched Sebastian drop to his knees, his wicked grin growing wider, "…and besides, I have a feeling you're used to this."

Sebastian had an urge to bite Kurt's cock for that comment, but thought of something better.

"So, have you and Blaine been comparing notes about my sexual prowess?" he joked.

A sharp kick to the shin wiped the smirk off his face.

"What the fuck, princess?" Sebastian hissed.

"Don't ever make a comment like that again," Kurt growled.

"Fine." Sebastian stood, brushing off his knees. "You know, you don't have to be in here with me. In fact, I can just leave."

"No…no, wait," Kurt pleaded, grabbing Sebastian's shoulder before he could turn to leave. "That's not…"

Sebastian looked down at Kurt with piercing green eyes. Kurt grabbed the collar of Sebastian's shirt, smoothing imaginary wrinkles.

"What you and I do…" Kurt started, "…it's just for us."

Kurt pulled Sebastian close.

"I just want something that my perfect boyfriend doesn't get to have," he whispered, voice colored with deep feelings of bitterness.

Sebastian smiled, inching closer to Kurt's lips until they almost touched.

"Don't worry, gorgeous. Dapper Dan's never had me, and he never will."

Sebastian kissed Kurt, this time slowly, gently rutting against Kurt's still exposed cock.

"Never's a long time," Kurt muttered. "And you're not necessarily the loyal type."

"Eh," Sebastian said, returning to the spot on the floor. "Fair enough, but there's hotter pieces of ass all over this city. At list I'll shove his to the bottom of the list."

Kurt opened his mouth to comment, but moaned instead when Sebastian wrapped his lips around him and slid down his length.

"Oh, God…" Kurt groaned, threading his fingers in Sebastian hair and pulling frantically, his whole body shivering every time Sebastian swallowed him completely.

"Do you like that, sweetheart?" Sebastian murmured, pulling off for a moment to gaze up at Kurt's wrecked face. "Are you going to cum?"

Kurt shoved Sebastian's face back into his crotch, filling his mouth again with his aching cock.

"Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking…" Kurt chanted, his hips pounding into Sebastian's mouth, forcing his cock down Sebastian's throat.

Words turned into gibberish, and then into silent, choked grunts as Kurt came down Sebastian's throat.

"Jesus Christ! You are _way_ too good at that." Kurt shoved his softening cock back into too tight jeans and struggling to pull up the zipper.

"Well, practice makes perfect." Sebastian stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Kurt reached a hand out to open the stall door, but Sebastian grabbed him by the wrist.

"Hey, now," Sebastian said, closing in on Kurt with his Cheshire cat grin, "turn-about is fair play."

"I'll walk you out to your car later and you can bend me over the back seat." Kurt pulled out of Sebastian's grasp. "They'll come looking for me if I'm in here too long."

Kurt washed his hands and straightened his ensemble in front of the mirror while Sebastian rinsed out his mouth. Sebastian grabbed a paper towel and dried his face.

"Shall we?" Kurt said, gesturing toward the bathroom door.

"Let's."

Sebastian followed Kurt out of the bathroom and into the bar, stopping at an occupied table over by the dance floor.

"Hey, guys!" Kurt sang as he approached his friends. "Rachel, Santana…Blaine, honey. Look who I ran into in the bathroom!"


	20. Man's Best Friend

**A/N:** _Written for the tumblr prompt 'shapeshifter'. Warnings for past!Klaine. Not Blaine or Klaine friendly. Future fic, angst, AU. Blaine drops in on Kurt unexpectedly in an attempt to get Kurt to take him back, and finds Kurt cuddling with a new friend._

Kurt ran his hand down the back of the beautiful Rhodesian, whose head rested in his lap, inquisitive green eyes staring up at him, silently offering Kurt strength. The act of smoothing down the animal's striking red fur soothed Kurt's frazzled nerves. Kurt smiled weakly, wishing that his surprise guest would just get the hint and go away.

Blaine paced the rustic throw rug in front of the couch, trying to find any way to make Kurt listen to reason. He wanted to sit beside Kurt, put his arms around him, remind him of all the intimacy they had, but the obtrusive ridgeback took up the entire couch. Blaine made no move to approach the dog. Every time he came within touching distance of Kurt, the beast turned its full attention on him and growled low, threatening Blaine with a curl of its lip and a show of white teeth. Something about the dog unnerved Blaine.

Its expressive eyes looked almost human.

Blaine had never seen a dog with emerald green eyes.

Blaine watched Kurt pet the dog, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"When did you get a dog, anyway?" he asked, wary of the way the animal kept one eye on him at all times.

"He was a present from a friend." Kurt placed a kiss to the dog's muzzle.

Blaine nodded slowly, his expression changing as he thought he finally understood.

"Boyfriend, you mean," Blaine said, his voice rising in volume, becoming more accusatory. "You have a new boyfriend! That's why you won't get back together with me."

Kurt rolled his eyes and squeezed them shut, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. The dog brought its head up to Kurt's chest, resting against him and licking beneath his chin.

"That's not the reason," Kurt said in exasperation. "I broke up with you because you cheated on me. I'm not getting back together with you because you haven't shown me a single thing that proves you've changed."

Kurt sighed, trying hard not to lose his patience.

"We're just…too different now, Blaine. I've moved on. You should, too."

"I don't believe this." Blaine threw his peacoat on, grumbling as he did up the buttons. "I came all the way out here, Kurt…I followed you _again_, and for what? I should have gone to California with Sam…" Blaine continued to mutter as he threw his scarf around his neck, not bothering to tuck the ends into the collar of his coat.

Blaine fixed Kurt with a wounded glare.

"Good-by, Kurt," he spat out, his voice wavering. "Have fun with your _dog_!"

Kurt let his head drop backwards, leaning against the frame of the couch as he heard Blaine stomp out the door.

"I will," Kurt called after him, listening to him slide the loft door shut and his footsteps disappear down the hall.

He felt the large dog finally move and smiled.

"I can't believe it," Kurt groaned. "That's the fifteenth time this month."

"Well," a deep, velvety voice murmured, "let's hope he's gone for good this time."

Kurt turned his head toward the sound, watching as the last of the Rhosdesian Ridgeback's silky auburn coat dissolved into Sebastian's perfect, pale skin. Sebastian's grin didn't fade when he captured Kurt's lips, sucking on his plush lower lip, making him moan in anticipation of where else that mouth might want to kiss and suck.

"So," a delightfully naked Sebastian growled, pulling Kurt down on the couch beneath him, "where were we?"


	21. Rude Boy Blue

**A/N:** _Here is a smutty one-shot for the prompt 'sex toy'. It features Kurt and Sebastian from my story Deliver Me, but this stands alone. No reason to read Deliver Me in order to appreciate this…not that I'm stopping you. By all means, read it…and then review it… :) 3,023 words. Rated M. _

Kurt looked over the strange J-shaped object, fingers pressed to his lips thoughtfully as he considered exactly what it was and what Sebastian intended to do with it.

"Uh, I thought you were going out for froyo?" Kurt asked.

"I did," Sebastian said, shoving a small Styrofoam cup of low-fat mocha frozen yogurt into Kurt's hands. Sebastian popped the plastic lid to his own double-fudge chocolate chip yogurt, grabbed a spoon, and dug in to his creamy dessert. "But a brand new adult shop just opened up next to The Golden Spoon and I couldn't resist." Sebastian shrugged, eating a huge spoonful of chocolate yogurt while he watched Kurt eye the new toy. Kurt put his cup of yogurt down so he could better examine the awkward-looking contraption.

"Rude Boy Blue," Kurt read off the package in an incredulous tone. "The easy to use design provides both prostate and perineum massage hands free, leaving you free to play with yourself or your partner…" Kurt's voice drifted to a low mumble as he continued to read the description, his face growing pinker as each word passed his lips.

Sebastian put his yogurt on the kitchen counter beside Kurt's forgotten cup. He took the toy out of Kurt's hand and put it down on the counter as well. He crowded Kurt against the granite top, one hand on each side of Kurt's body, trapping him.

"Don't play innocent with me, gorgeous," Sebastian whispered, kissing up the length of Kurt's neck as he spoke. "Remember, I went through your house from top to bottom. I saw your little collection of toys. They were a little tame, so I thought I'd spice things up a bit."

Kurt shuddered, not only at the delicious feeling of Sebastian's lips caressing his skin, but at the thought of him discovering what Kurt had thought of as his carefully guarded secret. In the stress and commotion of moving, the contents of Kurt's 'secret drawer' had completely slipped his mind.

Sebastian felt the muscles in Kurt's shoulders tense up as he kissed him.

"It's all right, gorgeous," Sebastian whispered. "Don't get self-conscious on me. What about you and a drawer full of sex toys did you think I wasn't going to like?"

Kurt turned his flushed face away and laughed, hating how flustered he still got around Sebastian, how easily embarrassed Sebastian's forward remarks made him.

Sebastian took advantage of Kurt's extended neck, licking up his skin in lazy patterns. Sebastian loved the rush of color that darkened Kurt's skin into that sinful red blush that told Sebastian just how much he turned Kurt on.

"Do you know what I think?" Sebastian whispered, his punctuated words tickling Kurt's skin.

"What?" Kurt said, the word breathy, almost a gasp.

"I think you're excited," Sebastian purred, lifting Kurt up onto the counter. Sebastian grabbed Kurt's legs and wrapped them around his waist. "I think you _want_ me to use that toy on you, you just don't know how to tell me…"

Sebastian snaked an arm around Kurt's waist, his other hand grabbing the back of Kurt's neck, holding him possessively, keeping him still so Sebastian could search out and abuse all of those sensitive spots on Kurt's neck that made him so hot he practically melted.

"But, you don't need to tell me," Sebastian continued between tiny licks and bites. "Your body tells me everything I need to know."

"Really?" Kurt shivered as Sebastian sucked a bruise over his collarbone.

"Mmmm," Sebastian hummed. "Yup. Everything you do gives it away. The way you tremble when I kiss your neck…"

Sebastian found a particularly delicate patch of skin on Kurt's neck and sucked gently to prove his point. Kurt wrapped his legs tighter around Sebastian's waist, a slight tremor racing through his body at the touch of Sebastian's tongue painting circles over his flesh.

Sebastian pulled away, smirking at Kurt's disappointed moan.

"The way you just held me tighter, like you're almost dying to have me inside you…and that beautiful moan…"

Sebastian wrapped careful fingers around Kurt's throat.

"It's in that gorgeous flush all over your skin…"

He leaned in close to Kurt's ear, letting his lips dance over Kurt's earlobe as he spoke.

"And I know you flush _all_ over…"

Kurt felt himself liquefy in Sebastian's embrace. He couldn't help himself. The seduction of Sebastian's voice was way too perfect to resist. He wanted it, everything Sebastian had to give him. He wanted Sebastian. He wanted it all.

"So, I think I'm just going to take this…" Sebastian said, picking the toy back up off the counter, "…and you, and go to the bedroom for a little fun. How does that sound?"

Sebastian didn't give Kurt the opportunity to object. Not that he would have. Sebastian knew that for sure. He lifted Kurt back up off the counter, carrying him still wrapped tightly around him to the bedroom.

He practically threw Kurt down on the bed in his eagerness to tear through the plastic packaging of the neon blue sex toy. Kurt undressed while he watched Sebastian, not willing to admit out loud that the thought of Sebastian teasing him with that toy, playing with him, torturing him, made him salivate.

Sebastian popped the package open with a triumphant laugh, then set it quickly aside when he laid eyes on his beautiful, anxious boyfriend, spread out nervously beneath him, propped up on his elbows, staring up at him innocently.

Sebastian leaned over Kurt's body and kissed his lips gently, closing his eyes and breathing in deep, taking in all of the decadent scents of Kurt's naked body – his vanilla shampoo, the new jasmine body wash he started using recently, and the most alluring scent of all, Sebastian's own peppery aftershave, which Kurt would sneak from time to time when Sebastian left the apartment.

"Do you want me?" Sebastian breathed against Kurt's pursed lips.

Kurt nodded, but he knew that Sebastian wanted more.

"Yes," Kurt said, his voice quivering slightly. "Yes, I do."

"Then lay back and relax for me, gorgeous."

Kurt lay his head back on the pillows and closed his eyes. Sebastian ran firm, massaging hands up his legs and down over his thighs. Kurt trembled with every pass, and once Kurt's legs started shaking, he couldn't get them to stop.

"It's okay," Sebastian soothed with his low, seductive voice. "If you want me to stop, just tell me to stop."

"Should we have a safe word?" Kurt joked, opening his eyes to look at Sebastian's alluring smile, the smile that made Kurt feel safe, that told him he'd always be safe as long as they were together.

"Sure," Sebastian said, pinching Kurt on the ass, laughing when he jumped with a tiny yelp. "How about 'asshat'?"

Kurt laughed, shaking his head.

"How about 'Versace'?" Kurt suggested.

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Sure," Sebastian relented. "Versace it is."

Kurt watched as Sebastian lubed up one finger and carefully opened him up with gentle strokes, pushing slowly into his entrance, green eyes locked onto Kurt's heated gaze. Sebastian loved eye contact, loved watching Kurt's reaction to his touch, especially the bold, intimate ones; the touches that turned the subtle glow of pink in Kurt's cheeks into a burning flame.

Kurt saw Sebastian reach for the toy, and he closed his eyes, trying his best to relax. He had never used a toy like this with anyone. The contents of his 'secret drawer' were simply a way of getting through the lonely nights after he and Blaine broke up. What Sebastian didn't realize was that most of those toys were untouched; gifts that Kurt bought for himself and swore he would use, but then backed out on, leaving them to sit in his drawer and gather dust.

He felt the cold, soft tip breech his entrance and he clenched, hissing a bit in protest.

"Come on, baby," Sebastian said softly, rubbing down Kurt's thigh with one hand and laying kisses down the other. "Open up for me."

Kurt relaxed at his touch, absorbed Sebastian's kisses into his skin, and without much conscious thought, his legs dropped open. Sebastian swiftly slid the toy inside Kurt, positioning it carefully so that the tip of the 'J' sat against the sensitive spot right behind Kurt's balls. Kurt tried to scoot away, but Sebastian's firm grip kept him in place.

"Are…are you sure it goes there?" Kurt stuttered, feeling completely vulnerable with Sebastian for the first time in months.

Sebastian simply smiled that wide, wolfish grin that was equal parts 'I love you' and equal parts 'I want to eat you alive.' He shushed Kurt in a soothing, non-condescending way that put Kurt at ease.

"Why don't you just lay down and relax, gorgeous," he cooed quietly, "and let daddy drive."

Sebastian switched on the device. It hummed softly, like the buzzing of a small insect. Sebastian watched Kurt's face for his reaction. Kurt shifted a bit, feeling mildly uncomfortable and not at all sexy. He had never really watched pornos, but he always remembered that the effects of a vibrator or some other similar toy were almost always immediate, with a lot of moaning following the flip of the switch.

"How does that feel?" Sebastian asked, holding the toy in place while he continued to massage Kurt's thigh.

"It's…uh…interesting…" Kurt said, shifting again. It didn't feel quite right. In fact, this little blue J-shaped toy felt like it desperately wanted to be out of him. "It's not quite what I expected."

"Okay…" Sebastian took Kurt by the arms, and pulled him upright, smiling like he knew a secret Kurt didn't know, "now let's sit you up."

"Why am I sitting up?" Kurt asked, feeling more uncomfortable about the idea of sitting on this thing.

"Because the salesperson said it might not stay in if you're lying down."

"Was he cute?" Kurt scoffed, trying not to sound jealous and failing. He imagined, for a moment, what kind of young, leather-clad, tattooed, edgy, sexy man might work in an adult toy shop.

"She wasn't really my type." Sebastian smirked.

Kurt rolled his eyes, knowing that his green-eyed monster of a diva had been caught rearing his ugly head. Kurt sat up straight, legs spread wide to accommodate Sebastian kneeling between them. Suddenly the expression on Kurt's face changed from awkward to awe, his eyes transforming to perfect wide orbs of cornflower glass.

"_Now_ how does that feel, gorgeous?" Sebastian whispered, pecking a line of small kisses from the underside of Kurt's angular jaw, down his neck, to his shoulder.

"O-oh my…oh my Go-" Kurt stuttered.

Kurt didn't want to move. He didn't want to risk dislodging the toy that vibrated perfectly inside him, putting even Sebastian's talented fingers to shame. The delicious sensations within him were heightened by the pulsing vibrations behind his balls, and he was immediately reminded of the many times Sebastian had taken them into his mouth one at a time and hummed around him. He was lost to all these sensations, a prisoner to them. This little toy had him at its mercy. Whatever it was doing to him, he didn't want it to stop.

Sebastian felt Kurt's hands lock around his arms and tighten, his stare a thousand miles from where they were. Kurt was focused, barely daring a whimper, holding his breath in an attempt not to move too much.

"You like that, don't you, gorgeous?" Sebastian whispered, kissing a trail down his boyfriend's skin, feeling the slight twitch of his muscles as all the sensations connected. Sebastian caught sight of Kurt's aching cock, which seemed to grow harder by the second. He licked his lips appreciatively.

Sebastian sank his mouth around Kurt, feeling Kurt the gentle rock of his hips back and forth, fucking himself on his new toy. Kurt moaned once he felt his cock hit the back of Sebastian's throat. He clawed at the sheets beneath him, fighting hard not to move away.

"No, Sebastian!" Kurt squeaked. "I-it's too much…too much…"

"Hmmm," Sebastian hummed, pulling away from Kurt to look up into his lust-blown eyes. "Nope. I think it might be just enough."

Sebastian clamped his hands down on Kurt's thighs, and mouthed over his cock again, sucking slowly, pulling his entire length into his mouth and then sucking off hard. Again and again he closed his mouth down around him, all the way to the base, till he could feel the buzzing of the vibrator against his lips, and then sucked hard, pulling off to let the chill air cool Kurt down before attacking him again.

Kurt rolled his neck on his shoulders, dug his heels into the mattress, scraped his nails over the comforter. Too much, it was too much, but he never wanted it to end. He couldn't stop his hips from moving, from rolling over the little toy and feeling it massage him perfectly with every tilt. Begging Sebastian to stop blowing him was also not a possibility, if not for the fact that Kurt's brain stopped working the moment Sebastian's mouth touched his cock, then because he needed Sebastian's mouth on him. He needed that connection.

Kurt ran his hands over everything within reach, craving more sensation, more touch. He scratched his nails over his own legs, traced the knuckles on Sebastian's hands, walked his fingers up Sebastian's arms, then wound his them into Sebastian's hair.

"Oh, yes, gorgeous," Sebastian moaned around Kurt's cock. "Touch me," he begged. "Pull my hair. I know you're close when you pull my hair."

Kurt tugged Sebastian's hair until he was sure it had hurt, but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't help doing anything. He felt completely and delightfully out of control. He could try to still the shivers that chased each other over his skin, but to no avail. He could fight to stop his hips, the way they fucked the little blue toy, the way they forced his cock into Sebastian's mouth, but why when he only wanted more. He felt a little guilty, taking so much pleasure and giving nothing in return, but he was too far gone to fix it now. He would just have to find some way to pay Sebastian back…pay him back big time.

Sebastian felt Kurt's hips shudder, heard his loud moans turn into whimpers and mewls, felt his fingers knot in his hair, grabbing at fistfuls as he tried desperately to fuck Sebastian's mouth. Sebastian dragged his fingertips down Kurt's skin, pulling down his back, digging into the soft skin of his hips.

"Are you going to cum for me, gorgeous?" he muttered as he pulled off Kurt's cock with a loud and obscene pop. "I can feel it. I know you want to."

A strangled whine, guttural, undignified, was Kurt's only response.

Sebastian smiled.

"I should just take you down my throat," he continued, his own voice deep and gravelly, full of lust and fire. "Swallow you down whole until you beg me to stop. What do you think, Kurt?"

Kurt bit his lip. This was the hardest part for Kurt. Telling Sebastian what he wanted. Letting Sebastian know how good he made him feel.

Sebastian abandoned Kurt's cock in favor of his lips, nibbling around his mouth, whispering taunts between feverish kisses.

"It would be a shame to stop now, Kurt," Sebastian teased, sucking Kurt's lower lip into his mouth. "You're so close. So…so…close…"

Kurt whined, dropping his head to Sebastian's shoulder. He reached for his cock, aching for release, but Sebastian grabbed his wrists and held them tight.

"Sebastian," Kurt groaned in frustration. "Sebastian, please…"

"Let me help you with that," Sebastian pleaded. "Just tell me that's what you want."

Kurt nodded vehemently, hoping it would be enough.

"Tell me…" Sebastian taunted in a sing-song voice, his mouth mere inched from Kurt's mouth, his tongue licking slowly over the seam of his lips.

"Sebastian…Sebastian…" Kurt mumbled, struggling to free his wrists.

"Just say it, Kurt," Sebastian said, feeling frustration tense Kurt's shoulders. Kurt rolled his hips faster, but it didn't help. The toy fell just a little too short. With his body aching for Sebastian's mouth around him, the toy alone wouldn't make him cum.

"God, Sebastian…" Kurt stammered, the words rushing from his lips before he could realize what he was saying and let embarrassment stop him. "Suck me off, Sebastian! Swallow my cock until I beg you to stop…"

Kurt kept muttering, stringing words together, punctuated curses, promises he would find a way to keep, but Sebastian was already on him, swallowing around him, slowly to begin with, inch by torturous inch.

Sebastian kept Kurt's arms locked to his sides, and the feeling of tight perfect heat surrounding his cock was enough to make Kurt cum, hard, uncontrollably, until his entire body shook with the force of his orgasm driving through him, and Sebastian, true to his word, held Kurt tight, sucking around him until Kurt arched his back and begged him to stop.

Sebastian felt like he might never stop smiling. Kurt collapsed back on the bed, fumbling for the toy, but Sebastian beat him to it, turning it off and pulling it out carefully. He set it aside and lay beside his boyfriend, kissing him softly. Kurt shivered slightly, a little from the intensity of cumming in Sebastian's mouth, a little from the cold. Sebastian wrapped a blanket around him.

"So, are you ever going to question my impulse purchases again?" Sebastian asked, squeezing Kurt tight to get him to laugh.

"Not if they're all as good as that one," Kurt answered, curling as close to Sebastian's warmth as he could manage. "I just feel bad."

Sebastian looked down at Kurt with a slight frown.

"Why?"

Kurt looked up at Sebastian with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

"Because, you didn't cum…and we didn't finish the froyo. It's probably all melted."

Sebastian winked at Kurt.

"I think we can fix both of those problems," Sebastian said, rolling off the side of the bed.

"Where are you going?" Kurt called after him.

"To get the yogurt…and some towels. It's about to get sticky in here."


	22. Give Me One More Day

**A/N:** _Written for an anonymous prompt I'll reveal toward the end. Warnings for mention of character death. Angst, au, future fic. Tony Award winner Kurt Hummel spending one last day with his husband Marine Corps Staff Sergeant Sebastian Smythe before his tour of duty begins._

Kurt whisked the eggs nervously, waiting in the kitchen with a huge lump in his throat. When he heard his husband start to descend the stairs, his heart skipped a beat, but he kept whisking, not ready yet to turn around and face him.

Sebastian ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair, and eyed the wall clock. He scoffed as he made his way to the kitchen table on unsteady legs.

"So, either you let me sleep late, or you're still not talking to me," he mumbled, taking a seat at the table and resting his head on his arms. He watched Kurt move quickly between pots and pans on the stove, preparing what looked like a colossal meal. He groaned.

"Are you expecting guests for breakfast?"

"No," Kurt said, cursing the slight waver in his voice. He prepared two plates, piling them high with eggs, waffles, biscuits and gravy…everything and anything he knew Sebastian liked. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. He turned to face his husband at the kitchen table and gasped. Sebastian sat straight up, looking around for whatever flaw caught Kurt's eye. Did he leave his dirty boots on the Persian rug? Was there a spice out of place on the Lazy Susan? Sebastian swore Kurt had tears in his eyes when he walked to the table, setting the plates full of food down in front of him. Sebastian eyed the food suspiciously.

"So, you're not still mad at me for taking one last tour of duty?"

"No. No, I'm not." Kurt sniffled.

"But…what about your new musical?" Sebastian asked, tilting his head to look into Kurt's stormy eyes. "And everything you said last night about…"

"I don't care about that! About any of it!" Kurt rushed into Sebastian's arms. Sebastian pushed his chair back to accept him, letting Kurt fall into his lap and drape his body over him. Kurt held Sebastian tighter than he ever remembered. "Just forget it? Please? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what I said, for every fight we ever had. For every time I couldn't admit I was wrong. Please, just…"

"Kurt…gorgeous…what's wrong?" Sebastian tried to pull Kurt's gaze up to meet his, but Kurt buried his face into the crook of Sebastian's neck and breathed in deep. "Kurt…you're trembling, sweetheart."

Kurt braved a look up from where he hid his face against Sebastian's neck, finding emerald green eyes looking back at him, clouded with concern.

"I…I just…I'm scared, Sebastian," Kurt admitted. "Scared you'll go away to some far off country and never come back."

Sebastian's concerned face melted into a warm, relaxed and cocky grin.

"Oh, baby…" Sebastian purred. "We've been over this. I'm invincible, remember?"

"Yeah…" Kurt sniffled again, nodding sadly. "Yeah…you're invincible."

Sebastian wrapped his arms around Kurt's shoulders until he stopped trembling.

"How about this?" Sebastian offered. "How about we go out for some retail therapy? Saks…Bloomingdale's, you name it. We'll see how close to the limit we can get on the new gold card. What do you say?"

Kurt's head snapped up to look at the clock. It was almost noon. It was getting so late already.

"No," Kurt said. "Not today." He turned back to Sebastian's surprised face and for the first time pressed tentative lips against Sebastian's skin. Kurt felt a familiar spark of electricity travel across his skin. "Let's stay home." Kurt pecked a small path across Sebastian's cheek, blazing a trail of progressively needier kisses towards his husband's mouth. "Let's go back to bed, and not get up again until the president himself pulls you out."

Sebastian moaned at the double entendre.

"That sounds like an absolutely incredible idea." Sebastian lifted Kurt off his lap, and carried him upstairs to get started on their perfect last day together.

* * *

Kurt woke up alone. The room around him, grey and dreary, revealed itself to him beneath the dim light. The center had worked hard to get the details right, but little things were amiss if he really took the time to look and notice them. The pale blue paint on the walls wasn't exactly the same shade of Powdered Robin's Egg that Sebastian had picked out for them when they first moved into the small house in San Diego. The knick knacks on the shelves were cheap imitations of the Hummels Sebastian had originally started buying for Kurt as a joke on their second date…the same ones Kurt smashed to pieces the day he found out.

Kurt stood slowly, fighting through a fog of his own depression as he started to get dressed, trying to push away the idea that all of this didn't make things easier than before.

He walked down the stairs where his publicist and best friend Rachel Berry met him. She looked him over, then quietly fixed the buttons that were fastened wrong and turned out the collar that was partially tucked. Kurt's blank eyes stayed glued to the imitation hardwood floor.

"Are you ready?" she asked, trying to gauge her friend's state of mind.

He nodded in response.

They walked through the door of the replica house into a large, two level laboratory. A few men in stereotypical white coats approached, their expressions a mixture of carefully hidden eagerness and practiced compassion. But Rachel, anticipating their approach, threw herself into the fray.

"Mr. Hummel has nothing to say to you at this time, gentleman," she said firmly. "I am sure he'll be willing to meet with you in a week to answer all of your questions."

"My apologies," the lead lab coat said, "but it's crucial for our research if…"

The doctor's words stopped short at Rachel's icy glare. The man stepped back in response.

"Of course," he recanted. "Whenever Mr. Hummel is ready. We'll wait."

Rachel held Kurt's elbow and led him through the maze of hallways until they finally reached to lobby. Kurt stopped at the glass doubled doors, his hands poised on the tension bar. He suddenly felt nauseous, swallowing a few times to fight back the urge to vomit.

"Whenever you're ready," Rachel whispered. "Just take your time."

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, taking one final, steadying breath. He leaned on the tension bar before he opened his eyes. He walked out the door and was greeted by the largest crowd of people he had ever seen in his life, even with his overwhelming success on Broadway. Reporters raced toward him, microphones at the ready to catch every word Kurt had to say. Security officers from the center held their arms outstretched to keep the reporters at bay, but that didn't keep them from firing off question after question, barely giving him time to answer. Beyond the reporters stood flocks and flocks or protestors, holding large, handmade signs, aimed directly at him and the cameras.

"Here we are now with Tony Award winner Kurt Hummel as he leaves the Second Chance Regeneration Center," he heard a reporter rattle off. "As the public already knows, Kurt Hummel's husband, Marine Corps Staff Sergeant Sebastian Smythe, was killed by insurgents overseas over five years ago. Mr. Hummel is the first client of the center who has actually gotten the opportunity…"

Kurt tuned the reporter's voice out, but another voice took its place.

"…enough of Staff Sergeant Smythe's DNA was recovered in the remains of the explosion to allow Mr. Hummel one last day with a fully regenerated version of his husband. Had more DNA been recovered, days, weeks, even months might have been possible…"

Kurt heard Rachel placating reporters, leading him through the crowd along the way. He walked numbly to his car, ignoring the microphones, the cameras, and the hands that reached out to him, some people cheering their support, just as many screaming in revulsion.

"This is unnatural!" nameless, faceless people cried. "Let the dead rest in peace!"

Crueler taunts were tossed his way, but he barely registered them. He reached his limo, his chauffeur waiting to the last minute before opening the car door. Rachel left his side for a moment, giving one last reporter an opening. The young rookie weeded his way through the crowd before Kurt could slide into the safety of his limo and called out one final question.

"Was it worth it, Mr. Hummel?" The voice carried through the cries of the crowd and hit him like a sledge hammer.

Kurt turned around, his face pale and expressionless.

"What?" Kurt asked quietly.

The reporter, stunned at actually being addressed, took a moment to pull himself together.

"You paid $3.5 million to get one last day with your deceased husband," the man said, trying to sound confident in the face of Kurt's cold, grey eyes. "Was it worth it?"

Kurt let go of the breath he held, and in spite of himself, in spite of the pain, in spite of the agony of living the rest of his life alone, he smiled.

"Every penny."

_(The prompt for this was 'death'.)_


	23. Nocturnal Emissions

**A/N:** _This is another one-shot for the prompt 'depraved'. AU where Sebastian goes to Dalton while Kurt and Blaine are still there, with Dalton being a boarding school. Warnings for underage, voyeurism, sleep walking, somnophilia (sort of), and infidelity. Not Klaine/Blaine friendly. Rated M for smut. _

Kurt came to Sebastian's room in the middle of the night, and every night, Sebastian taped him. Secretly, of course, using a digital webcam he kept hidden on his bookcase. It started shortly after Sebastian transferred to Dalton. Sebastian had no real interest in Kurt at first. He had his sights set on Kurt's all-too smitten, shy schoolboy Blaine. The two were pretty much joined at the hip, and since Blaine seemed adorably oblivious to Sebastian's blatant flirting, it became too much fun ruffling his royal highness's feathers. But Sebastian wasn't one to turn down a beautiful piece of ass, especially when it walked itself right into his room and climbed into his bed.

The first night, Sebastian assumed Kurt had stopped by to lay into him with one of his patented diva lectures about how he loathed Sebastian and the way Sebastian treated his boyfriend. He opened his bedroom door, startled to see Kurt, and slipped on his patented sarcastic smirk, waiting for the verbal blows. But Kurt brushed past him into his room like he owned it, climbed beneath Sebastian's sheets, and went to sleep. Sebastian stood stunned in the doorway. He took a seat in his desk chair, trying to make sense of Kurt climbing into his bed in the middle on the night when just as suddenly as he showed up, Kurt climbed out of the bed and walked out. Sebastian followed a short way, watching the boy walk back down the hallway to his room.

The next night it happened again, the same exact way. A knock at Sebastian's door, Kurt walking into his room as if Sebastian had invited him, and falling to sleep in Sebastian's bed. Kurt would snooze for an hour, then get up and leave.

Sebastian never mentioned it, even over coffee in the commons when Kurt told him he smelled like craigslist. Sebastian knew that information was power, and for now he would play his cards really close to his chest and keep this little nugget of intel to himself.

After seven days of mysterious nocturnal visits, things suddenly changed. Sebastian found himself waiting up for Kurt, and would open the door once he heard Kurt's footsteps pad down the hallway. He opened the door with a flourish.

"Welcome to casa de…"

Kurt's lips silenced Sebastian's snarky remark.

Kurt's hands were everywhere – lifting up the hem of Sebastian's white t-shirt, nails scratching along the skin of his stomach, snaking down the back of Sebastian's pajama pants and palming over his ass. Sebastian tried to push Kurt away, but Kurt was stronger than Sebastian expected. Kurt practically dragged Sebastian over to the bed, sat down in front of him, and slipped Sebastian's half-hard cock in his mouth.

"Nngh," Sebastian moaned. He couldn't help it. Kurt felt too good around him. "Kurt…w-what are you doing, Kurt?"

Kurt didn't answer, his mouth completely occupied, sucking Sebastian's length almost entirely down his throat.

"Kurt, you do remember that you…_God_…that you hate me, right?"

Kurt didn't acknowledge Sebastian's question at all.

"Kurt," Sebastian continued, holding on to Kurt's shoulders for leverage, feeling his knees go weak, about to cum. "You have a boyfriend, Kurt."

That was when the idea hit him. How he could finally swing stealing Blaine from Kurt. Not that he really wanted Blaine at this point he realized, but just because it would be too much fun splitting the Dalton power couple up.

Sebastian came down Kurt's throat with a triumphant smile on his face, his plan coming together in his head as Kurt climbed beneath the blankets of the bed and fell asleep. An hour later, just like clockwork, Kurt got up and left.

Sebastian spent all of Saturday morning setting up the mini camera on his bookcase with an unobstructed view of his bed. That night, when Kurt came back, he barely waited to step into the room before he leapt into Sebastian's arms, hands becoming even more bold, mouth sucking marks over Sebastian's chest, hips moving, rutting roughly against him.

Sebastian stumbled backward as he tried to make his way to the bed, finally falling back onto the mattress and taking Kurt with him. Kurt's eyes stayed closed, but he didn't need to see to tear the clothes off Sebastian's body. Kurt hovered over Sebastian, kissing down his body, his dainty tongue tracing patterns all along Sebastian's skin.

Sebastian couldn't help himself. He moaned into the dark, louder than he intended. He bristled for a second at the thought of an overly concerned teacher roaming the hall and barging in, thinking he was in pain. Or possibly another student. What about Blaine, half-asleep, wandering the halls in search of his boyfriend, lured down the hallway by the sound of Sebastian moaning and walking in to see him fucking his pristine boyfriend's mouth. The thought of Blaine walking in on them made Sebastian's blood boil. He felt himself grow harder in Kurt's mouth, and he bucked his hips up, pounding harder and harder.

Kurt and Sebastian did everything but fuck on those nights in his room, and fourteen videos later, Sebastian found his moment. The Warbler council elected to give Blaine and Kurt a dual solo for regionals, and Sebastian decided he wanted Blaine's part. He waited for Captain Clueless to leave the table for another cup of coffee, then closed in on Kurt.

"So, here's the deal," Sebastian whispered across the table to Kurt, "I want Blaine's solo. You're going to tell your pretty boyfriend to give it to me."

Kurt's blue eyes went wide with surprise. He chuckled, shaking his head with disbelief.

"And why would I do an insane thing like that?" Kurt asked, completely unperturbed. "You don't have a quarter of his vocal range, and there is nothing you can say that would persuade me that you can sing the part better."

"Oh," Sebastian said, dropping his voice, his tone suddenly dark, "I think you'll find that I can be very persuasive."

Kurt furrowed his brow in confusion.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Let's just say that I know something you don't know." Sebastian sat back in his chair, smug and satisfied that he had Kurt on the ropes. "Why don't we discuss it in my room later…just you and me?"

"Discuss what?" Blaine asked, handing Kurt a cup and dropping back down into his chair.

"Just Mr. Parone's calculus assignment," Kurt covered quickly. "Sebastian stopped taking notes to stare at Jeff's ass, and now he's behind…uh…so to speak…"

Blaine laughed at Kurt's unintended joke. He glanced up over his boyfriend's head to the clock on the wall and gasped.

"Oh, crud, Kurt! We're going to be late for Warbler practice."

Kurt turned to look at the clock behind him.

"Shoot! You're right."

Sebastian watched Blaine and Kurt scramble for their things. He grabbed Kurt's messenger bag before Kurt could get a hold of it, and slipped it over Kurt's arm. Kurt stared at Sebastian curiously.

"Remember what I said, princess," Sebastian said quietly. "Stop by anytime. My door's always open."

Kurt scoffed, turning away and taking Blaine's outstretched hand.

"What was that all about?" Sebastian heard Blaine ask as the two walked away.

"Oh, you know Sebastian," Kurt replied. "He thinks he's God's gift…you know, like that apple tree in the garden of Eden that turned everything to shit.."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, reaching down for his own bag when he spotted a folded piece of paper on the table in the space where Kurt had been sitting. He picked it up, wondering if it was a cutesy little love letter to Blaine from Kurt, or something equally as obnoxious.

It was a note addressed to Sebastian, written in Kurt's flowery handwriting. Sebastian's face went completely pale when he read it.

_'So, when are we going to watch those movies of yours? K.H.'_


	24. In the Meantime

**A/N: **_Written for the prompt 'depraved'. Rated M for smut. Warnings for oral sex, alcohol use, prostitution, mention of drug use, infidelity-ish, mention of Blaine/Klaine._

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut to better absorb the feeling of slick warmth that surrounded him. Even with his eyes closed, he saw Kurt perfectly – the image he kept in his head crystal clear even in his present state of inebriation. Kurt's eyes, shifting from a calm, pacifying blue to a steely grey as the irises blew wide with want and lust; the twelve or so tiny freckles sprinkled across the sharp bridge of his nose; his delicate pink lips wrapping tight around his cock; Sebastian could see it all.

Sebastian pictured Kurt smiling at him, laughing at him almost cruelly when they fought, poking at Sebastian's insecurities, rooting out all his carefully hidden fears and using them with practiced skill to cut him deep. And Sebastian had given Kurt an ultimatum…a fucking ultimatum. He should have known better. He should have known that if he gave Kurt an out he would take it.

Sebastian looked down at the scraggily head of brown head swallowing his dick and wondered what exactly Kurt was doing to Blaine right now. Was he on his knees in some filthy bar, ruining a pair of $300 jeans just to please Blaine?

Sebastian knocked back a shot of tequila to numb the urgent sensation coiling in his cock. The boy on his knees noticed the movement, heard the heavy gulp, and huffed in frustration.

"You know, if you keep pounding back shots, we're going to be here all night."

Sebastian chuckled darkly.

"Like you have anything better to do," he slurred.

"You don't know my life," the boy grumbled. "And I told you before," he continued with more conviction in his raspy voice, "my name's not Kurt."

Sebastian shoved a hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a wad of crisp bills held together with a platinum clip. He pulled one bill free with uncooperative fingers, crumpled it, and tossed it into the boy's face.

"I'll call you whatever the fuck I want to call you," Sebastian muttered, rough hands grabbing a fistful of drab, mud-colored hair and pushing the boy's face back into his crotch.

The boy sneered, but obediently sucked, reaching around blindly to grab up the violated hundred dollar bill. Sebastian considered the distasteful creature on his knees in front of him. He was about Sebastian's age, and could probably pass for Kurt if he took better care of himself, or in contrast, if Kurt became a strung out, dead-behind-the-eyes junkie. Still, maybe Sebastian treated him less-compassionately than he should, but at the moment, he had no measure of pity for the boy. Sebastian had no idea what his name was. It had been mentioned once and promptly forgotten, and why not? This boy on his knees wasn't really a person. He was a means to an end.

Sebastian closed his eyes and tried to conjure up an image of Kurt on his knees, his alabaster skin begging to be marked; his supple, pink lips stretching to accommodate Sebastian's girth; the feeling of Kurt's well-manicured nails raking raised marks up and down Sebastian's legs. The image was so potent, so convincing, that he could almost hear Kurt's strangely endearing judgmental sigh.

"Really, Sebastian? Is this what you've lowered yourself to? I've only been gone three days."

Sebastian heard the words, the high-pitch voiced laced with sarcasm and veiled amusement at his expense, reminiscent of the cruel one that mocked him a few days back, but this one was softer, more forgiving, even considering the position Sebastian was currently in, with his cock shoved down the throat of a male prostitute.

Sebastian's eyes snapped open to see mecca standing before him, hands on hips, dressed in head to toe Marc Jacobs, and smirking like a bitch.

Sebastian made no effort to move, afraid the shimmering mirage before him would dissolve into the air. Kurt sighed, dropping his overnight bag on the floor. He sidled up to Sebastian slowly, hips swaying, a vicious temptation to Sebastian's weakened immune system. When Kurt reached the elephant in the room, the strung-out boy on his knees, Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Could you kindly remove my boyfriend's dick from your mouth and leave?" Kurt groaned, delivering a sharp shove to the boy's shoulder with the toe of his Doc Marten boot and sending him flying backward. Sebastian hissed as teeth scraped down the length of his cock as the surprised boy sprawled on the floor. The boy's eyes went wide when he caught sight of Kurt hovering dangerously over him. Kurt's eyes looked the boy over from spiked hair to worn-through shoes, taking in the soiled off-the-rack clothes he wore in between.

"Eww." Kurt's gaze swept the living room and landed on a blue bottle of Febreeze sitting on a nearby end table. He picked it up, and nonchalantly sprayed the boy's clothes, nose scrunching in disgust and delight as the boy scurried to escape the mist of sweet smelling chemicals.

"God, that smell is never going to go away," Kurt muttered as if he wasn't assaulting a human being with disinfectant. "Now," Kurt said, mildly pleased with himself, "take your money and get out. Go far away and forget where I live…or you'll regret it."

Kurt's tone was threatening, his intent clear, and the boy didn't squeak a single protest – not mentioning that Sebastian had driven him here, nearly sixteen miles away from his home; that walking home with $500 in his thread-bare pockets was basically begging for trouble. Whatever waited for him out on the street was nowhere near as terrifying as the sharply dressed, angelic-looking man with murder in his shining, gunmetal eyes. He scrambled off the carpet and out the door, bounding away like the fires of hell licked at his heels.

Kurt replaced the bottle and brushed off his hands, turning back to the statue of his boyfriend staring dumbly at him, rapidly softening cock hanging from the unzipped fly of his jeans, empty shot glass gripped tight in his hands. Kurt cocked an eyebrow as he took in the sight, and shook his head.

"You know, you were the one who pushed me away," Kurt said, locking the apartment door. "You told me to go see him and figure out what I wanted. You have no one to blame but yourself."

Sebastian swallowed hard in response. Kurt grabbed a pair of yellow latex kitchen gloves and slipped them on his hands. Confident that he was well-protected, Kurt tucked Sebastian's cock back into his pants and did up his zipper. Then, with a scowl, he stripped the gloves off his hands and tossed them in the trash, spraying a fair amount of Lysol in the bag for good-measure.

Sebastian's voice was late in coming, and choked when he finally found a way to speak

"S-so…so did you…"

"Yup," Kurt said simply. "Within an inch of his life, too. And it's safe to say he's entirely out of my system."

Sebastian nodded, stunned and unsure as to what Kurt had actually decided.

"So does that mean…"

"I'm back, Smythe," Kurt said, throwing his arms wide.

Sebastian wanted to smile, but his skepticism wouldn't let him.

Kurt caught the look of doubt, saw the way it settled into Sebastian's emerald eyes and stayed, a fog that lingered to protect Sebastian from any potential pain. Kurt's smile turned less sardonic and more genuine.

"Here's what we're going to do, Sebby…" Kurt put his hands on Sebastian's shoulders and massaged firmly. "We're going to scrub you with hot water and lye, run you down to the free clinic for a check-up because…" Kurt turned his head slightly to gesture after the ghost of the young boy, "…damn. And then we'll discuss where we go from here."

"So…you're back to stay."

Kurt risked a chaste kiss to Sebastian's cheek.

"Back to stay, baby."


	25. The First Time I Saw Your Face - Ch 1

**A/N: **_From the prompt 'scar' came this monster story. Sebastian has visual agnosia - a disorder that affects how he perceives certain objects, including faces. Kurt has a horrible disfiguring scar. The two of them meet in college with some pretty interesting results. There will be several chapters to this story, posted in order._

Sebastian couldn't see faces.

Growing up, Sebastian was an unusually hyper child. His parents couldn't handle him. His nanny couldn't handle him. He didn't have many friends because he rarely stopped moving long enough to meet them. He was extremely intelligent, but couldn't be bothered with trivial things like school and books. He couldn't walk to school unchaperoned because on the days he did, he never made it there. An exceptionally large tree would call to him, and he would be compelled without reason to climb it. Or he would find a neighbor's skateboard in the grass and skate away to the next town. One bizarre morning he was discovered at a neighbor's house painting their fence.

It was on a day when he was running late for school and the nanny was sick and his mother and father were out of town that Sebastian took off down the street just to be distracted by his old foe – California black oak. A small fence constructed at the base of the tree and wound around with yellow caution tape couldn't deter Sebastian. He leapt over them with barely any effort and shot up the trunk, scurrying straight to the top like a squirrel. He bounced among the high branches, swinging from one to the other, pretending to be a lemur in Madagascar, which is why the crew from the city maintenance department didn't see him.

Men in cherry pickers started thinning out the branches, never noticing the rambunctious little boy until one of the workers spotted him balancing on the branch he had just finished trimming. Green eyes met brown for just a moment before the branch broke with a sickening snap and Sebastian fell to the ground, knocking out a few loose tree limbs along the way.

Eight broken bones.

A concussion.

A bunch of nasty looking contusions.

Close to fifty stitches.

His nanny never forgave herself.

His mother felt guilty for being grateful that her uncontrollable son's massive injuries would force him to stay in one place for a while.

His father sued the city.

The doctors predicted that he would make a full recovery.

But Sebastian was an unusual boy.

Nothing about him was easy.

Something most children would have recovered from, even a horrendous accident like his, wouldn't leave Sebastian without some kind of life-altering scar.

So when Sebastian opened his eyes and looked around his bed, he found he was completely and entirely alone, not because his family wasn't standing at his bedside. He saw their bodies and their legs. But not a single one of them had a face.

The doctors assured his parents it would likely go away.

They gave his parents books. They put them in touch with support groups, specialists, and therapists.

His parents called acupuncturists, gurus, and monks.

No one had any solutions.

His parents pulled Sebastian out of school. They got him private tutors. He took his classes online.

He graduated with honors and when he turned eighteen he left his parents' home against his family's wishes and moved to New York City.

He never saw his parents again.

Kurt hated his face.

He wore turtlenecks and high collars.

He pulled the edges up to cover his right side.

He ate in the cafeteria by himself.

He spoke to no one.

In a room full of people, he tried to disappear.

Kurt was a meticulous child; a perfectionist really. His father never truly understood him. It all started when his mother died. After that, Kurt had an obsessive need for utter control in his life. Excessive neatness. A place for everything and everything in its place. Even ridiculous things needed to measure up to Kurt's almost insane level of perfection. His father would wake up some mornings to not just a spotless house, but a thoroughly clean and organized garage. One Sunday morning, on the third anniversary of his mother's death, Kurt's father found him outside rearranging the plants growing in the garden. There Kurt was, dressed in head to toe plastic, two pairs of gardening gloves on his hands, and a ruler. He had started by measuring the distance from the house to the first tulip, and with mathematical precision, he readjusted all the tulips to match, color coordinated the gladiolas, and redistributed the gerberas by varying shades in order according to the color spectrum.

Kurt's father sat and watched his son the entire afternoon, until Kurt reached a hydrangea and stopped in his tracks. The plant grew in an area of the garden with constantly changing levels of aluminum in the soil. Part of the plant grew blue and part of it pink. No matter how hard Kurt tried, he couldn't figure out a way to divide the plant, and after an hour of trying, he broke down, sat in the dirt, and began to cry.

Kurt's father held his son, and told him he would make everything all right. The next morning, the beautifully troublesome hydrangea had been adopted by a kindly neighbor down the street who knew what it was like to lose someone she loved.

Kurt's obsession with order seemed to get worse from that day on, and his father was at a loss. He thought maybe his son was too isolated. Kurt had no real friends. A little girl from down the street had invited him over for a tea party once, but became frustrated with him when he took all of her collectibles down off of her shelves and categorized them by color and magical species.

His father planned a barbecue. He invited friends, neighbors, and family members from all over Ohio. Almost everyone came. Kids ran around the yard. Adults laughed and talked over potato salad and unhealthy fried foods. Kurt's father broke out the old grill for the first time in years. Everything went off without a hitch. Kurt's father even thought that Kurt looked happy.

A neighbor stacking the charcoal briquettes on the grill caught Kurt's eye. The man stepped away for a moment, and Kurt noticed that the pyramid the tiny black blocks formed angled off obtusely on one side more than the others.

Kurt felt an overwhelming need to fix it.

He didn't know the briquettes were already doused in fluid and lit.

Kurt reached for the grill, and brought the whole thing down on top of him.

The few neighbors who had decided not to attend the barbecue could hear Kurt's screams from blocks away.

The entire right side of his face was scorched into one huge, angry scar.

Everything but his eye had been irreparably damaged.

He carried the burn his entire life.

Everyone in the relatively small town of Lima, Ohio, knew about Kurt's accident. No one spoke about it. Kids didn't tease him about it. Everyone understood, but Kurt still felt alone.

He hid his face.

He hid his life.

The day after graduation, he packed a bag and ran away.

Kurt was tired of hiding.

Running away to a place where very few people stood out seemed perfect to Kurt, but he was still terribly lonely. To a degree, the campus at NYU was a lot like Lima. No one really judged him for his scar, but no one made an effort to be friends with him either. He knew he was hard to look at. Sometimes, the people who tried hard not to stare at him were more obvious than those who stared openly, or the ones who gasped and looked away.

On the first day of _Intro to College Math_, Kurt, the boy that people tried not to notice, found a boy who didn't notice anyone. Kurt watched him from a distance as the young man took notes and diligently did his work. If there was a single incomparable human in the world, this man had to be it. Everything from his modernly styled hair to his sea green eyes, his flawless skin and his impeccable fashion sense, screamed perfection…and unavailable.

The thing that fascinated Kurt the most was that regardless of the loads of attention that people heaped on him – girls flirted with him, metrosexual men practically begged to be his friend – he ignored them all. Even the professor calling out his name didn't seem to attract his attention.

_Sebastian_.

Kurt sat three rows back and to the left of unrivaled beauty, and his name was Sebastian.

He wrote it on his left arm so he would never forget it.

"Okay, now you're just making shit up," a girl behind Kurt scolded her friend. "Can't see faces? That's not even a thing. You just don't want me to ask him out before you get the chance. FYI – it's not going to work. I'm totally getting up on that as soon as possible."

"Whatevs," her friend retorted. "It is _so_ a thing. I heard Professor Evans talking about it. That's why he doesn't talk to anyone…and P.S. He's mine, thank you very much."

Their conversation peeked Kurt's curiosity, and even though he wouldn't normally give either girl the time of day, he turned quickly and confronted them.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, sounding more assertive than usual under the circumstances. Both girls jumped back a bit.

"Ugh," the first girl commented. "Rude much?"

A third girl sitting beside them closed her book with a frustrated sigh.

"It's called visual agnosia," she clarified without sparing them a glance. "It's not that he can't _see_ faces. He knows what a face is, it's just his mind doesn't recognize them anymore, so it replaces them with something else. From what I hear, everyone just looks kind of like a big blur on legs to him."

The girl started to gather up her belongings and shove them in her bag.

"But…but what could cause that?" Kurt asked, suddenly excited by the prospect of a gorgeous man who couldn't see his face, wouldn't see how damaged he was.

Maybe they could be friends.

"Uh…I don't know," the girl said, zippering up her bag. "Maybe an accident? A blow to the head or something." The girl looked up at Kurt with an unexpectedly warm smile. "Maybe you should ask him." The girl winked at Kurt, shouldered her bag, and headed for the door.

Kurt absentmindedly got up and followed her. She seemed to know something he didn't. Or was that just wishful thinking on his part? Either way, if Sebastian couldn't see Kurt's horrible scar, then it wouldn't hurt to talk to him, maybe ask him out for coffee. Maybe he could make up an excuse, ask Sebastian for help with the math assignment.

_Shit!_

Kurt was almost through the classroom door when he realized he had left his book and the rest of his belongings on his desk.

Kurt turned on his heel, muttering to himself. He ducked his head to avoid any possible stares from his classmates. A herd of gabby girls walked into him head on, and Kurt landed on his tailbone on the hard, linoleum floor.

A hand grabbed his arm.

"Hey! Are you alright?" Kurt heard a velvety smooth voice ask. Then the voice gasped. Kurt was sure some well-meaning jock had reached down to help him and caught sight of his face.

But the reality was worse…much worse.

Sebastian, his green eyes even more intense and incredible from close up, had grabbed hold of Kurt's left wrist. The long sleeve of Kurt's hoodie had pushed up to his elbow. Sebastian stood frozen, staring at his own name.

Kurt's terrified eyes watched Sebastian's face closely, waiting for a reaction.

Sebastian smiled, his all-too tempting lips twitching up into a crookedly adorable grin.

"So, is that _my_ name on your arm? Or is your name Sebastian, too?"

"Uh…" Kurt hadn't expected this. This gorgeous guy wasn't cringing in fear, wasn't backing away, wasn't ignoring him uncomfortably as if he didn't exist. In fact, Kurt wasn't too certain, but Sebastian might have just flirted with him. Kurt felt his face glow red. The most handsome man Kurt had ever seen was flirting with him.

To be fair, Sebastian hadn't really caught sight of his face yet.

Kurt swallowed hard. He couldn't think of anything to say. He simply waited for the shoe to drop.

Sebastian's eyes found his face.

Kurt went rigid, but then breathed a sigh of relief remembering that Sebastian wouldn't react like everyone else, because he wouldn't see his face. He would only see a blur. For once, Kurt would be just another face in the crowd.

Sebastian didn't react like anyone else ever had.

His eyes went wide. His grip around Kurt's arm tightened. He stared for a moment, a strange, unreadable expression on his face.

Then Sebastian choked out a laugh, dropping to his knees in front of Kurt, who still lay sprawled on his ass on the floor.

"I can see you," Sebastian whispered. Kurt would have thought the man was poking fun at him if not for the genuine sound of awe in his voice and the tears shimmering in his eyes. "I can see you," he repeated softly. He reached his free hand out to touch Kurt's face. Kurt backed away as far as he could to avoid Sebastian's fingers, but not far enough to pull his wrist free of Sebastian's grip.

"Is everything alright, Sebastian? Kurt?" Professor Evans asked from behind them. Kurt looked up and saw the professor staring down at them, along with almost every other student from their math class, and a few others who lingered in the hall.

"Kurt," Sebastian parroted. The sound of his name wrapped around that velvety voice brought Kurt's attention back to Sebastian's astonished green eyes. "Kurt," he said again. Sebastian slowly started to come to the realization that they were both sitting on the floor in the doorway of their classroom, with a group of their peers staring at them strangely. He stood, pulling Kurt to his feet, unwilling to take his eyes off of Kurt's stunned face.

"Would you like to go have coffee with me, Kurt?" Sebastian asked. "I would like to get to know you…if you have the time."

This was all too weird, even for Kurt. He had no idea what was going on. But was he really going to let that get in the way of him having coffee with this stunning man?

"I would love to," Kurt answered breathlessly. "I just need to…to get my books."

Sebastian followed behind Kurt while he got his things. It should have unnerved Kurt, the way Sebastian looked at him. Kurt had been stared at most of his life, but not like this. Not like he was someone to be admired.

Not like he was beautiful.

He gathered all of his things into his bag and shrugged it onto his shoulder, but Sebastian intercepted it, and slung it over his shoulder instead.

"This way you can't run away from me," Sebastian whispered with a satisfied smirk on his face. He took Kurt by the hand and led him from the classroom, several dozen pairs of eyes and gaping mouths following them as they walked away.


	26. The First Time I Saw Your Face - Ch 2

**A/N: **_Sebastian has visu__al agnosia - a disorder that affects how he perceives certain objects, including faces. Kurt has a horrible disfiguring scar. The two of them meet in college with some pretty interesting results._

Kurt sipped his coffee, shrinking slightly beneath the weight of Sebastian's eyes as they followed Kurt's every move. Sebastian seemed absolutely fascinated by Kurt. He mimicked every gesture. Sebastian licked his lips when Kurt did, swallowed when Kurt swallowed, tilted his head at the same time. It was almost like looking into a mirror.

Almost.

"So, was there something that you wanted to know…about me?" Kurt asked. He felt exposed, like a specimen in a glass jar…something novel and interesting for Sebastian to look at.

"Yes. Yes, I do, as a matter of fact," Sebastian replied, managing to sound both distant and interested at the same time. "Tell me everything about yourself."

Kurt's eyes bugged slightly. He looked down at his watch and sighed.

"Everything?" Kurt asked. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously." Sebastian smiled. Kurt noticed Sebastian's hands working on the surface of the table - flexing, fidgeting, crawling slightly as if Sebastian wanted to take Kurt's hand, but then returning to their place, fingers thrumming on the Formica surface.

"Well…" Kurt spun his coffee cup in his hands. He focused on the plastic lid, trying to think of something interesting to say. He felt pressured to live up to some sort of magical, super-human status. "I'm from Ohio…"

Three words spoken and Sebastian's eyes practically glowed, his hand slapping down on the table unexpectedly.

"So am I!" he said. "Westerville. You?"

"Lima." Kurt chuckled, trying hard to hold back the small tremor of excitement that shot through him. "I lived there my entire life with my dad…my mom died when I was eight…"

Sebastian's face softened. This time his hand found Kurt's and held it gently.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

Kurt flinched involuntarily at the unsolicited contact.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian said, pulling his hand back slowly. "Do I make you nervous?"

"More than you can possibly comprehend," Kurt replied, with only slight sarcasm.

Sebastian smirked.

"Why is that?" Sebastian asked earnestly, finally taking a sip of his neglected coffee.

"Well, if you must know," Kurt started, feeling unexpectedly vulnerable, "it's the way you stare at me."

Sebastian looked up from his coffee with a flirty smile.

"I imagine people stare at you all the time."

Kurt scowled, the truth of Sebastian's comment driving every other thought out of his head. His suspicions about Sebastian's motives turned to anger - utterly irrational anger.

"What? Is that some kind of joke?" Kurt barked.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Sebastian's smile slipped as confusion took over.

"Is this some really elaborate prank?" Kurt couldn't help the sound of hurt in his voice. He only had himself to blame. He should have known better. Can't see faces? What the fuck is that!? That girl in class could have been in on it. That would explain her strange, impish grin.

"Do people stare at me?" Kurt muttered, taking out his wallet and dropping a couple of wrinkled dollars on the table to pay for his coffee. "Only all the time, you dumb fuck, but you know that, don't you?"

"Kurt?" Sebastian reached out for Kurt's hand, but Kurt pulled it away. "Kurt, I don't know…do people stare at you? Is there something I'm missing?"

"I don't think you _do_ miss it!" Kurt started yelling. "I think you see it crystal clear."

Kurt stood and bolted from the coffee shop. Sebastian grabbed his bag and followed, getting more and more flustered with each step.

"Kurt…I have no idea…would you please wait!"

Kurt stopped. He didn't know why. He didn't have a reason to. He didn't owe this man anything, but Kurt still held on to the hope that everything Sebastian claimed was true, that he couldn't see Kurt's face and his awful scar, and that maybe, maybe he really wanted to get to know Kurt.

"Could you please tell me what the hell is going on?" Sebastian pleaded, "Because believe it or not, I don't have a clue."

Kurt took a deep breath, filling his lungs to overflowing with the cool, fall air. He got as close to Sebastian as he dared, until they were nearly touching noses. Kurt squinted into Sebastian's eyes, which stared back at him bewildered. Sebastian didn't flinch at Kurt's closeness. He didn't seem disgusted by the fact that Kurt's face came so close to touching his.

Could it all be true, or was Sebastian just one hell of an actor?

Kurt still wasn't sure.

"What do you see?" Kurt asked.

"What?" Sebastian didn't move away from Kurt, even as Kurt inched even closer.

"When you look at my face…what do you see?"

Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief, his entire face relaxing back into that charming, smooth and easy smile that had started to tie Kurt's stomach into tiny knots.

"I see your smile…" he said softly, holding Kurt's gaze captive with his own as he spoke, "…and I see your beautiful blue eyes…I see your perfect, porcelain skin…"

Kurt recoiled at the mention of his skin.

"Perfect?" Kurt whispered in disbelief. "Perfect?" Kurt didn't know if he wanted to cry or scream. "Why are you being so cruel? You don't even know me."

Sebastian threw his hands up in frustration.

"I don't understand!" he exclaimed. "I wish you would just tell me what you're talking about, because I promise you I don't know!"

Kurt grabbed one of Sebastian's hands, placing just his fingertips to the right side of his face. Sebastian traced down the embedded marks and ridges on Kurt's skin gently. The feeling of Sebastian's fingers touching his face tenderly filled Kurt with a strange, unfamiliar feeling. His heart sped in his chest, his eyes grew wide. He felt fire rush through his blood. He held his breath, praying Sebastian didn't notice.

Kurt watched Sebastian's face for any change, any sign of revulsion or disgust. Sebastian's brow furrowed, his eyes searching Kurt's face, trying to make sense of what he felt in contrast to what he saw. Kurt felt his righteous indignation start to dissolve. Suddenly Kurt wanted those fingertips all over his body. He wanted them creeping beneath his shirt, exploring over his skin. He never wanted anyone's touch so much. Kurt backed away. Sebastian's hand hovered in the air for a moment.

"What…what was that?" Sebastian asked.

"It's a scar. A burn. I got it when I was little. It destroyed the right side of my face."

"Oh," Sebastian said, his confused eyes soft and sympathetic. "I'm so sorry."

Kurt nodded, waiting for the inevitable. Now Sebastian knew the truth. He could let Kurt down easy. He would realize his mistake, walk away, and go on with the rest of his life. Kurt could go home alone and file this moment away so he could look back on it and remember the feeling of Sebastian's fingers on his skin, and that look of absolute wonder in Sebastian's perfect green eyes when he first looked at Kurt's face.

But Sebastian didn't say a word, and he didn't turn to leave. He simply waited for Kurt to say something. If Sebastian's staring was unnerving, his silence was almost unbearable. Kurt looked left and right, needing a way out.

"What is it that you want, Sebastian?" Kurt sounded exasperated. He wanted to run. Run away from this God-forsaken coffee shop, and the strangers who started to stare their way.

He wanted to run away from the possibility of getting his heart broken.

"Honestly, I want to see you again."

Kurt laughed at the irony.

Sebastian sighed with a tired chuckle of his own.

"Ok, my staring bothers you. I accept that. I'll stop." Sebastian ran a hand through his hair while he tried to think of a solution.

"How about this," he suggested finally, "I'll close my eyes for a full minute, and you get to decide how you want to move forward. We can shake hands and say good-bye as friends, or maybe, just maybe, you can be open-minded and give me a chance."

Kurt didn't answer. He couldn't convince his mouth to make words. Was this man for real? Did he really want to ask Kurt out again…after all of this?

Sebastian closed his eyes.

Kurt looked at Sebastian's face, eyes closed, lips relaxed into a sly grin, waiting for Kurt to make his move.

Kurt imagined for a second that Sebastian maybe even wanted Kurt to kiss him.

Sebastian waited, counting quietly in his head, hoping for anything…a touch…a whisper…a kiss? Would Kurt be that bold? But the longer he waited, the more he began to think that Kurt might not even like him.

A breath ghosted over Sebastian's ear like the light touch of a feather gliding over his skin.

"I don't know what you're waiting for, gorgeous," a silky voice said, "but your hideous friend just split."

Sebastian's eyes snapped open. His eyes swept over the sidewalk, the chairs filled with faceless customers sitting at tables, sipping their drinks. He looked up and down the street in vain. Kurt had run off.

"Thanks," he said in a monotone to the hopeful barista, "and fuck you very much."

"So, you just left him there?" the fiery blonde therapist asked with a scowl on her face. "In the doorway to Starbucks, practically begging you to kiss him?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. He stood from the straight backed arm chair and started pacing the small office.

"Yes, alright, Jane!" Kurt groaned, feeling the full weight of his guilt barreling through him. "I left him there. I left him standing there with his eyes closed, and yes, I think he wanted me to kiss him. But…"

"But, what?" Jane propped her feet up on her desk. Kurt cringed at the sight of her thirty dollar sensible shoes scuffing the rich mahogany desk top. "Be prepared, sweet cheeks. He might not want to speak to you ever again."

Kurt sighed, dropping back down into the stiff chair. That's what he was afraid of. He hadn't really thought about it when he took off, but he had his reasons, and they were good reasons…weren't they?

"I just…I don't…" Kurt cradled his head in his hands. "Why me?"

"Well, that's an easy question to answer, isn't it?"

"And that's the problem!: Kurt exclaimed. "I don't want him to like me just because he can see me. I mean, it's fucked up that he has this crazy, rare disorder and all, but I don't think I'm strong enough to be his anchor…and I don't want to be a consolation prize."

Jane fixed Kurt with her piercing sky blue eyes.

"But, you didn't even give him a chance, did you?" Jane accused. "You're kind of a judgmental prick, do you know that?"

Kurt's jaw dropped.

"Excuse me?" he said defensively. "You know, I don't think I'm paying you to insult me."

"No, you're paying me so I can help you, and part of that is calling you out on your bullshit when I smell It and, whoa, if you aren't stinking up this office like a manure factory."

Kurt felt defeated. Jane was crude, but she was also right.

"Well, it doesn't matter now, seeing as he'll probably never speak to me again." Kurt picked at a stray string on the arm of the chair. "I don't even know why he _can_ see me," Kurt mumbled.

"There I might be able to help you," Jane said. She leaned her chair back dangerously, pulling a stack of papers from her printer and passing them to Kurt. "When you called, I emailed a colleague of mine. A neurologist. He got in contact with a guy who deals in obscure neurological disorders, and emailed me all this crap."

Kurt took the papers and flipped through them. He counted almost thirty pages filled with words like visual input, mental representation, recognition memory, and a few others he felt he might be able to discern, but wedged between those were other words like positron emission topography, N-acetyl-aspartate depletion, and impaired semantic fluency that he was sure would give him a headache after only five minutes. Kurt shook his head in disbelief as he tried to digest a few of these sentences and failed.

"Uh…can I get the Cliffs Notes version?"

"No," Jane said sternly. "Partially because your penance for being an ass is to read that stack from top to bottom."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, peeking up at Jane from over the papers.

"And what's the other part?"

"The other part is I couldn't even begin to tell you what any of that means, but…"

Jane stood from her desk and walked over to where Kurt sat, flipping through the daunting pages with a look of exasperation on his face. She thumbed past a few pages until she reached a section that with a highlighted passage. She jabbed at the page a few times with her finger.

"This might answer your question as to why he can see you."

Kurt scanned the few sentences eagerly, but quickly became overwhelmed, throttling the pages in frustration.

"Basically," Jane explained, "it says that he can see your face because of your scar, but he's telling the truth. He can't see your scar."

"What?" The depths of Kurt's confusion became astronomical.

"His brain works on perception," Jane continued. "He's seen a face before, but because of whatever, he no longer perceives them. More than likely, he's never seen a scar like yours before, so his mind removes it and replaces it with what's familiar…your face."

"So, if he saw someone else with a scar…or a gigantic birthmark or something…"

"It might work the same way. Yes." Jane returned to her seat, propping her feet back up on her desk.

"So, I was right." Kurt shook his head. "I'm not special."

Jane sighed.

"God, are you infuriating!" she said. "It has nothing to do with that. Realistically, it has very little to do with you. For once in your sad, tragic little life, someone else has it slightly worse."

"Really?" Kurt scoffed. "How? He's gorgeous, smart, he could have anyone he wanted…"

"Yeah, except he can't, can he? He's lonely. He wanted a friend. After all these years, he finally found someone he could actually see and when he reached out to that person, they left him in a coffee shop without even a good-bye."

Kurt dropped his head in shame. He was so infuriated by the idea that Sebastian might be playing him, might have some cruel angle or intention, that he never considered that Sebastian might just be a lonely guy looking for a friend.

He was so busy being a victim, he didn't realize he was also a self-centered ass.

"What do I do?" Kurt asked.

Jane pointed at the pages in Kurt's hands.

"You read those, and on the off chance that Captain Perfect actually does talk to you, you apologize, and you offer to buy him a coffee."

"And if he yells at me?" Kurt met Jane's eyes.

"You let him," she said, "because you deserve it. Now get the hell out of my office, Skinny Jeans. Your hour's up."

Jane waved Kurt away with one dismissive, manicured hand.

If Sebastian felt Kurt staring at him, he didn't let on. He focused on the blackboard and did his work quickly, hoping to pack up his things and be out the door the moment class ended.

Kurt barely paid attention to anything Professor Evans said. He caught something about derivatives, and maybe something about integers. Frankly he could care less. He had passed Calculus BC before graduating high school. He was fairly sure missing out on the professor's riveting discussion about positive and negative numbers wouldn't kill his grade point average. He didn't even bother to take his book out of his bag. He wanted to be able to catch Sebastian before he had the chance to give him the slip.

Kurt felt like an 80s high school angst movie cliché, sitting on the edge of his seat, watching the second hand tick slowly around the face of the clock on the wall, ready to pounce when the bell rang. When the time came, Kurt's graceful and carefully planned approach failed spectacularly when his foot tangled in the straps of his backpack, and he crashed onto the ground bringing his desk down with him. Everyone stopped and stared. Professor Evans gaped at him from his spot in front of the blackboard. The girls in the desks behind him chittered like squirrels, giggling behind their hands and shaking their heads. Kurt didn't try to get up. He hoped that maybe Sebastian had seen this as his golden opportunity and left.

A strong hand grabbed Kurt's arm and pulled him to his feet.

"Yeah, thanks," Kurt muttered, not even turning to face whoever helped him.

"Yeah, well, I'm beginning to think being knocked on your ass is going to be a daily thing with you." Sebastian turned the desk over and rescued Kurt's traitorous backpack.

Kurt went cold. He hadn't seen this coming. He had practiced what he would say to Sebastian in his head over and over, and never once did that conversation start with Sebastian picking his sorry ass up off the floor.

Kurt decided to just go for it.

"Look," Kurt said, "about the other day…"

"Forget it," Sebastian interrupted, thrusting the backpack into Kurt's arms. "I think you made yourself pretty clear already. No harm, no foul."

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably on his feet, turning to leave. Kurt grasped at straws, trying to think of anything that would keep Sebastian from walking away.

_I'm sorry._

_I'm an idiot._

_I didn't mean to run off. It was an accident._

"So…do you have apperceptive or associative visual agnosia?" Kurt blurted out.

Sebastian stopped short.

_Shit!_

"I'm sorry," Kurt followed up quickly. "Is that a personal question? I didn't mean…"

Sebastian turned and looked back at Kurt with a cryptic expression in his green eyes.

"Where did you…"

"My therapist," Kurt divulged. "She gave me some information…"

Kurt dug through his backpack, searching for the well-read and underlined sheets of paper cluttering his bag, trying to hide from Sebastian's hard-to-interpret look of scrutiny. Kurt pulled out a few of the pages from the mass and Sebastian took them, scanning the words and noting the notes scribbled into the margins.

"So, you know." Sebastian shrugged, handing the pages back to Kurt. "Now we're even."

Kurt zippered up his bag quickly, shooting out a hand to grab Sebastian's shoulder as he turned to walk away.

"You know, to be fair, you did come on a little strong," Kurt said, trying to defend himself. Sebastian smirked, shaking his head, but the comment made him pause.

"Please," Kurt said, holding Sebastian's shoulder. "Please, can't we just…start over?"

Sebastian glared at Kurt.

"Well, why don't you close your eyes for a minute, and we'll see what happens."

Kurt felt his heart twist in his chest at the cold, hurt look in Sebastian's eyes. Kurt sighed and shut his eyes, waiting, pretty sure that Sebastian would just walk off and leave him.

Sebastian had every right.

He almost did.

He barely took a step before he stopped. He looked at Kurt, eyes closed, waiting, the same way Sebastian waited for Kurt.

"I…I can't do that to you," Sebastian said.

Kurt opened his eyes slowly. Sebastian looked down at his shoes, scuffing the linoleum with his foot.

"I can't just leave you here."

"Why not?" Kurt asked.

Sebastian looked back up at Kurt's face.

"Because I wasn't lying," Sebastian said matter-of-factly. "I was telling the truth when I said I wanted to get to know you. I want to know everything about you. And not just because…" Sebastian raised a hand and unconsciously gestured to Kurt's face, "…because I can see you. It's because…I have a feeling that we have a lot in common."

"Yeah," Kurt said, dropping his own eyes to his white Doc Marten boots. "Like what?"

Sebastian moved closer, ducking his head to catch Kurt's gaze.

"Like maybe we can both use a friend."

Kurt was too ashamed to look at Sebastian, but Sebastian wouldn't let him look away.

"I have a place off campus," Sebastian offered. "Maybe you can come over and I can make us dinner?"

Kurt swallowed hard, letting his mind wander, entertaining the idea that maybe Sebastian had more than just dinner in mind, as ridiculous a thought as that may be.

"When?" Kurt asked, hoping his voice didn't sound as small and pathetic as he thought it did.

"What are you doing right now?"

Kurt smiled

"Nothing important," Kurt said.

Sebastian turned half-way, preparing to walk out of the classroom with Kurt following, but at the last moment he offered Kurt his hand. Kurt took it, suppressing a ridiculous giggle as he walked with Sebastian out the door.


	27. The First Time I Saw Your Face - Ch 3

**A/N:** _Sebastian has visual agnosia - a disorder that affects how he perceives certain objects, including faces. Kurt has a horrible disfiguring scar. The two of them meet in college with some pretty interesting results._

Kurt turned in a slow circle and whistled low, taking in every inch of Sebastian's stylish studio apartment.

"When you said you had a place off-campus, I thought for sure you meant one of the little shoeboxes the rest of us got shoved into. But this…"

Kurt whistled again.

Sebastian smiled, taking Kurt's book bag and putting it beside his on the floor near the door.

"Well, money has its perks," Sebastian admitted, "and I have plenty of it. Thank you grandma and grandpa." Sebastian gazed up at the ceiling and sent a small kiss skyward.

"Ah, trust fund baby," Kurt said, walking over to the plush sofa and dropping down into the cushion. The oversize piece of furniture nearly swallowed him whole, not that he minded. This caramel-colored sofa, with its high-back and armrests, was even more comfortable than his own bed. He closed his eyes and sighed, the sound of Sebastian's unguarded chuckle making him smile.

"Comfy?" Sebastian teased, knocking into one of Kurt's knees with his own.

"Shhh," Kurt teased back. "I'm asleep."

Sebastian smiled and shook his head, stealing a moment to examine Kurt from his head of perfectly-styled walnut colored hand, over his retro Tommy Hilfiger tee and artfully torn Abercrombie jeans, down to his Doc Marten boots, only tied half way. Sebastian followed the line of Kurt's clothes back up his body, eyes riding the gentle curves of his jeans where they clung to his muscle, the rise and fall of his stomach beneath his shirt as he breathed, reaching his face – that beautiful, confusing, complicated face – in time to see one eyelid pop open when Sebastian took too long and the room stayed too quiet.

Sebastian recovered quickly, clearing his throat and turning away, occupying himself by quickly kicking off his checkered Vans, but Kurt smiled nonetheless.

"You live in off-campus housing, I take it?" Sebastian took a seat beside Kurt, turning toward him, knees barely touching.

"Yup," Kurt replied, still watching Sebastian through only one open eye. "I share a two-bedroom with a performance artist, and luckily for me, he's not all too particular."

"Oh—oh." Sebastian bobbed his head in a nod, disappointment evident in his voice so much so that Kurt couldn't bear to tease him.

"Yeah, but he spends most of his time at his girlfriend's sorority house anyway, so I get the place mostly to myself."

Sebastian fought the smile that started to tense his cheeks, trying his best to look nonplussed by Kurt's remark, knowing how much he had just revealed his hand.

"Well, why don't I make us something to eat?" Sebastian suggested, rising from the couch.

"Ooo, let me help you," Kurt offered, rocking back and forth in a failed effort to dislodge himself from the couch cushions. Sebastian stood back a step and watched, reluctant to offer any assistance as payback for Kurt poking fun at him. Kurt slid forward finally, almost dropping to his knees on the floor in an attempt to get to his feet. Kurt stood straight, crossing his arms over his chest, and glaring at Sebastian with a hint of humor in his eyes.

"Nice," Kurt accused. "Very nice."

Kurt marveled at Sebastian's state-of-the-art kitchen, quietly turning green as he chopped vegetables at the island and watched Sebastian cook. Sebastian looked comfortable, almost in his element, and Kurt, who didn't impress easily, found that he was. He bit his lip when Sebastian flipped vegetables in the sautee pan over the fire with ease, fiddled uncomfortably in his seat when Sebastian cracked two eggs at a time perfectly in one hand, and almost moaned out loud at the way Sebastian massaged a dry rub into a roast.

And Sebastian, who might have been putting on a little bit of a show, preened at the attention he knew he attracted, realizing Kurt was watching when he heard the pounding of the knife against the cutting board slow and then come to a stop.

"So, how are the veggies coming?" Sebastian asked, slowly slipping the roast in the oven.

"Oh…what?" Kurt sat rim-rod straight, dropping the knife that dangled from his fingers onto the mutilated carrot lying on the cutting board. "Uh..l…all done."

Sebastian grabbed a large salad bowl and started gathering up the various chopped greens and roots, tossing them together expertly with a vinaigrette he had mixed earlier from scratch. Kurt would have stopped staring if that were humanly possible, but at this point, he couldn't tear his eyes away if he tried. Flattered and amused, Sebastian picked the bowl up off the counter and headed toward the dining room.

"Why don't we get started," he said, smoothly leading Kurt out to the table without turning to see if he was following.

Kurt never realized he could have romantic feelings for a rump roast until he tasted the meal Sebastian had made. Kurt bit his lip, trying hard to keep from moaning after every single bite. After every moan, Sebastian's heart would stutter, his entire body reacting to the sound, until he had to cross his legs tight at the ankles to keep from getting up and moving to the seat beside Kurt. Sebastian needed a distraction from the sinful way Kurt's mouth moved around the piece of meat as he chewed, the way he closed his eyes to appreciate every bite, and that delicious moan.

"Tell me about your dad," Sebastian said, feeling that discussions about a parental figure might be just the thing to cool him off.

Kurt sighed wistfully, and Sebastian was afraid that maybe he chose the wrong distraction.

"He's my rock," Kurt replied simply. "I love him. I miss him. He blamed himself way too much for this…" Kurt gestured down the side of his face. "But he was overprotective, and so sad all the time. It might sound selfish, but I just needed to get away from that."

"Yeah, that sounds incredibly selfish," Sebastian agreed. Kurt turned hard eyes on him, but Sebastian continued on. "But, you're supposed to be selfish, Kurt. This is your life, and you have to start living it. He's your dad. He'll understand."

Kurt looked down at his meal and nodded, toying at another tempting bite with the tines of his fork.

"What about your family?" Kurt asked, looking up to meet Sebastian's eyes. "What are they like?"

Sebastian chewed while he thought, taking a moment to wipe his mouth with a napkin before answering.

"Distant," he said. "I was a very hyper child, and my parents couldn't really handle me. Then after the accident, they shut me away so I'd never get hurt again."

"So, you weren't born like this?"

"Nope." Sebastian's lips twitched into a sad half-smile. "I fell out of a tree…knocked into every branch on the way down, ended up unconscious for days. When I woke up, I couldn't see my mom and dad's face. The doctor just thought it was trauma from the fall, and that someday, when my brain had fully healed and the swelling was gone, everything would go back to normal. But it never did."

"I'm sorry." Kurt wished he could think of something smarter, more compassionate or relevant to say, but nothing came to mind, and Kurt didn't want to stay quiet in the face of such a tragic story.

Sebastian shrugged.

"It is what it is."

"Well, is there a chance, maybe? You know, that your vision will return?" Kurt realized he was grasping at straws, probably even the same straws Sebastian had grasped over and over, but it just seemed too heartbreaking to be real. Sebastian's stiff smile melted into something warm and sympathetic, touched that Kurt would be bothered so deeply by his affliction.

"Well, you read the literature your therapist gave you, right?" Sebastian said with just a hint of teasing in his voice. "What did it say?"

Kurt's hopeful gaze dropped to the table once more, and he shook his head.

"Highly unlikely at this stage."

A tense, awkward silence grew between them, Sebastian watching over the rim of his water glass as Kurt pushed the remnants of his sautéed vegetables around the edge of his plate.

"Well," Sebastian said when the slight scraping of Kurt's fork against his plate became too much, "this is just about killing my buzz."

Kurt's head snapped up, his eyes going wide.

"Wait…" he sputtered, watching Sebastian push away from the table and stand, "b-but we're not…what kind of buzz, exactly?"

Sebastian walked over to Kurt and took his elbow, silently persuading him to stand. Sebastian leaned into Kurt's ear.

"The buzz of having a gorgeous man in my apartment," Sebastian whispered, pulling Kurt carefully back to the living room and the dangerously comfortable sofa. Kurt ducked his head as he allowed himself to be ushered along. He wanted to object, but he didn't want to sound self-depreciating, especially in light of the fact the Jane had been right during their last session. Kurt finally met someone who had a worse burden to bear in life than he did.

"What did you have in mind?" Kurt asked instead. Sebastian twirled them around, pushing Kurt gently back onto the seat cushion and then dropping down in the space beside him.

"A good old-fashioned game of Twenty Questions," Sebastian offered. "I know you've got some. Lord knows I have a couple. And if we're going to bring on the heavy, I'd rather do it sitting here next to you than across from you at the kitchen table. Agreed?"

"A-agreed," Kurt stammered, though at this point he would have agreed to anything. Sebastian sat so close to Kurt that he noticed for the first time the unique, spicy scent of Sebastian's cologne, and the subtle way his piercing green eyes looked from Kurt's eyes to his lips and then flicked back up to his eyes again with just a subtle dart of his tongue over his lips as a chaser.

"Great. You go first."

"Uh…" Kurt had a million questions, but now that he had the opportunity, his mind went blank. Or maybe there was just a short-circuit between his brain and his mouth the moment he saw Sebastian absentmindedly rub his hand up and down the leg of his jeans, working at stiff muscle in his thigh. Kurt folded his hands in his lap and tried to concentrate.

"Has this ever happened to you before?" Kurt asked. "You know…was there ever someone else whose face you could see, or am I the first?"

Sebastian screwed up his face as he thought, finishing off the massage of his thigh with a few firm strokes that had Kurt at a complete loss of upper-level brain function.

"There was this guy when I first moved here," Sebastian began, not seeming to notice Kurt's sudden distress as Kurt clasped his hands tighter. "He was jogging, and I was walking, just exploring the city. He almost ran into me, and when I looked at him I thought, just for a second, that I could see him." Kurt nodded, more intrigued now than uncomfortable. "I heard a lady next to me murmuring something about a face tattoo, so maybe…you know…considering…maybe I did see him."

Kurt nodded again, and Sebastian didn't miss the tiny twinge that shifted Kurt's features for a split-second from curious to disappointed.

"But I always believed," Sebastian quickly amended, "that maybe I was alone for so long that maybe I hallucinated that image…that maybe my brain picked a face at random and filled in the pieces."

Kurt raised a skeptical eyebrow at that comment, but his expression seemed lighter, more full of hope.

"When I moved to the city, I was in a bad place," Sebastian explained, and this time Kurt's expression of hope became more complete.

"I guess that sounds plausible," Kurt agreed.

"Okay," Sebastian said, clapping his hands together. "My turn."

Sebastian wrung his hands together, trying to think of the perfect question to ask. Truth be told, he wanted to see Kurt squirm a little, but maybe loosen him up in the process.

"Okay," he repeated when he thought up the perfect question. "Tell me what your last boyfriend was like."

Sebastian expected an exasperated sigh, maybe a dramatic eye roll. He didn't expect Kurt to drop his eyes to his folded hands and shift anxiously in his seat, with a look on his face as if he was trying to decide whether to answer the question or bolt from the apartment.

"I…I've never…" Kurt huffed in frustration. He peeked up to see Sebastian's gorgeous face staring at him, a mixture of patience and good-natured ribbing in his expression. It was that feeling of being made fun of when Kurt didn't share in the joke that made him snap. He looked up quickly, flashing steely eyes in Sebastian's direction. "I've never had a boyfriend, okay!"

"Okay, Kurt," Sebastian said, forced physically backward by Kurt's change in mood. "Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't…"

"What was your first kiss like?" Kurt asked, angrily pursuing Sebastian down the length of the sofa. Sebastian had no idea what Kurt had in mind, but he let Kurt crowd him against the armrest at the opposite end.

Sebastian's slight frown morphed slowly into a mischievous smirk, and Kurt felt a subtle burn fill his chilled insides. There was so much more than friendly affection in that expression and Kurt was dying to know what Sebastian was really thinking when his lips curled into that alluring, cocky grin and his eyes glowed.

"How do you know there's even been one?"

Kurt laughed bitterly, a single sharp sound that conveyed all his anger.

"Well, have you seen yourself?" Kurt spoke first and thought after. He stopped, his mouth dropping, mortified by what he said, but Sebastian just smiled.

"Parts of myself, yes," he answered.

"I….Jesus fucking shit!"

Kurt stopped his pursuit in favor of hiding his face in his folded arms on his lap.

Sebastian wanted to laugh.

"Why are you so nervous, Kurt?" Sebastian soothed, but Kurt just groaned in response, finding it hard to speak with his foot lodged so firmly in his mouth.

Sebastian considered running a comforting hand over Kurt's back, even going so far as to raise a hand and let it hover an inch or so above Kurt's body, but he changed his mind, pulling the appendage back to his side.

"My first kiss…" Sebastian started, finding a spot on Kurt's t-shirt and fixing his eyes on it, "…was with a girl who worked for my dad."

Kurt slowly raised his head, confusion written in every line of his furrowed brow.

"Wait…are you…"

"No," Sebastian finished quickly. "100% gay, but at the time, being so isolated from the world, maybe I was a little unsure, and this girl…I think my dad hired her to work around the house, just in case I was interested."

Kurt absorbed the words for a moment, let them rattle around his brain until they made sense.

"Oh," Kurt said quietly, his lips lingering in a little 'o'-shape. Kurt didn't hide his face again as he waited for Sebastian to continue.

"Anyway," Sebastian drawled, "I guess she got tired of waiting…or maybe my dad threatened to fire her for not doing her job, because she cornered me one afternoon in the library and kissed me."

Kurt breathed in sharp and quick, horrified on Sebastian's behalf.

"And it was…"

"Awful," Sebastian chuckled. "It was hard and tight lipped with a lot of teeth and tongue." Sebastian made a face and shook his head as if he had just bitten into something sour. Kurt sat up quickly and laughed in spite of himself. "I was sixteen." Sebastian shrugged. "My dad found out and made a big deal out of it."

"How did you react?" Kurt asked, throwing tact under the bus for the sake of his intense curiosity. "I mean, what did you say to him?"

"Nothing. I never spoke to him again," Sebastian admitted without a hint of regret in his voice. "You know, it may sound stupid, but I had a fantasy about how that first kiss would go, and he pretty much paid somebody to take that dream away from me."

Kurt wanted to cry, out of anger, out frustration, out of sadness. He wanted to curse and scream. He suddenly felt restless, like he needed to pace or punch something or run. It was one thing to have people he didn't know dislike him and judge him. Kurt was used to having complete strangers tell him he'd never achieve his dreams. But it was entirely inconceivable to him to have someone who professed to love you and raise you, whose job it was to protect you, tear your dreams apart for you.

"Sebastian," Kurt said finally, "I didn't know. I shouldn't have asked. I kind of wanted to get back at you, but you didn't know either…" Kurt ran his hands through his hair, blowing out a deep breath. "I guess…it's your turn. If you want to keep going."

Sebastian nodded, biting his lip. He moved back to his original spot, closer to Kurt on the couch.

"I do, actually," Sebastian said, watching as Kurt's eyes tracked his movement. Kurt didn't look apprehensive, just surprised, and Sebastian noticed the moment Kurt's breath hitched in his throat as he correctly read Sebastian's intentions.

"Shoot," Kurt whispered, the focus of his gaze dropping from Sebastian's eyes to his lips and that tempting tongue that licked along the seam slowly. Sebastian stopped when he came so close that Kurt's eyes couldn't focus on him anymore, and a single 'yes' would be enough to close the distance of a shallow breath.

"Can I kiss you?"


	28. The First Time I Saw Your Face - ch 4

**A/N: **_This is ostensibly the last chapter for this one-shot but I don't know...I kind of like these two. We'll see what happens in the future._

"Can I kiss you?" Sebastian's breath danced across Kurt's lips in tiny puffs that tickled and tempted and tantalized all at the same time.

Kurt stopped breathing. He literally, figuratively, physiologically, spiritually, and in every conceivable way possible could not move, and thinking was quickly following suit. His mind remained stuck in an endless loop of the moment when Sebastian had uttered the question, "Can I kiss you?".

Inside, Kurt was astounded, amazed, excited…but without meaning to, he looked absolutely terrified.

Sebastian edged back just a bit to better see the expression on Kurt's face. He saw Kurt's eyes growing wider still, his jaw clenched, lips pulled tight. Sebastian's brow furrowed.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, not sure if he should feel flattered or offended.

"No—nothing," Kurt stammered, finally finding his voice and not quite using it as effectively as he had hoped. "Nothing's wrong, I…just…nobody's ever asked me that before."

Sebastian tilted his head, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"I liked it," Kurt rushed to answer. "I…I liked it a lot."

Sebastian chuckled gently. He scooted in closer, feeling the waves of apprehension that surrounded Kurt's rigid body like a dark aura melt away.

"Would you like me to ask you again?" Sebastian asked quietly, already sure he knew what the answer would be. This time he reached out a hand to hook a finger beneath Kurt's chin, smiling when Kurt shivered beneath his touch.

Kurt nodded before he could find the words to answer.

"Y-yes please," Kurt said, wincing internally at the obvious sound of desperation in his voice. Sebastian smiled; he couldn't stop smiling. He played over Kurt's mouth with his own, shadowing Kurt's lips, barely brushing against his skin.

"Can I kiss you?"

Sebastian's voice was just a suggestion. Kurt felt the question in his mouth, against his lips, washing over his tongue. Kurt only nodded once, a single dip of his head, and Sebastian pulled in close, stopping for a second to breathe Kurt in before he slid his lips slowly across Kurt's mouth and kissed him.

Kurt heard a moan – just a short, choked sound that vibrated across his skin and tickled his tongue - but he couldn't tell which of them had made the sound. He focused on the overwhelming sensation of fulfillment that flooded his body, filling his senses straight to his soul. Kurt craved human contact, but he never realized just how much he _needed_ this. He needed a connection and here it was with all the beautiful bells and whistles that came with it; attraction, desire, longing – it was all there.

Kurt finally felt like he belonged. In a world that saw him as a freak, an outsider, here in the arms of this gorgeous man of all places, he found a niche to fill. Maybe it was the same thing Sebastian felt, the way he was certain that he could see Kurt for a reason; that in a world full of self-absorbed cynics fumbling to find their match, Kurt and Sebastian were marked so distinctly that at least the two of them could get it right – that they would see each other and just know.

Sebastian smiled. Kurt could feel it against his lips. Kurt's lips still moved against his when Sebastian whispered, "That was it. That was the dream."

Sebastian pressed in on Kurt again, wanting more of that fantasy. Kurt got caught up in the kiss, became breathless with the taste of another man, the sensation of being touched intimately. He was so enthralled by the act itself that he barely registered Sebastian's fingers, which had travelled over the thin fabric of Kurt's shirt and tangled loosely in the hem. The first touch was a question, a light flutter of fingertips playing at the edge, asking for permission to sneak underneath. Kurt broke their kiss when he realized, his gaze falling to the fingers frozen in their dance. Slowly his eyes traveled up the length of Sebastian's arm, meeting with green eyes, blown wide, pleading for Kurt to stop him now if this wasn't what he wanted.

Kurt swallowed hard, but he found it difficult to say no to Sebastian. Those big green eyes just might be the death of him, Kurt thought. Kurt couldn't help the feeling that he would completely break Sebastian's heart if he refused. But he didn't let that sway him. Kurt knew he could say no. This long stretch of tension-filled silence was a testament to Sebastian's restraint. Kurt could reject him, and Sebastian would back down.

Kurt had a different, more pressing problem.

He didn't want to say no. He wanted a man to touch him.

Correction.

He wanted Sebastian to touch him.

Sebastian started to pull his hands away, sure he had crossed a line. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the surge of fire in his blood that came with just the thought of running his fingertips over what he was sure was smooth, flawless skin.

The burn didn't matter. The scars didn't matter. All that mattered was Kurt.

Sebastian would wait for Kurt.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait too long.

Kurt watched Sebastian's fingers retreat, and grabbed his wrists quickly.

Kurt's hands shook. He had no clue what he was doing. He didn't know what it meant to be sexy. Kurt had no idea what Sebastian saw when those green eyes looked at him, when they raked over his body, when his urge to kiss and to touch and to feel overwhelmed him, leading them to this heated make-out session on his couch only a few days after they first met, especially considering on one of those days Kurt ditched him in a coffee shop with his eyes closed, waiting to be kissed.

Kurt knew nothing about seducing men, but he knew what he wanted, what he was willing to give.

And he wanted that with Sebastian.

Kurt pulled Sebastian's hands close, let them hover over his stomach, feeling the intense heat of Sebastian's skin come off him in waves.

Sebastian watched Kurt intently, holding his breath, waiting for him to move, to make a decision.

Kurt stared deep into Sebastian's eyes as he moved forward just an inch, and Sebastian's hands caressed his skin.

Sebastian moaned, actually moaned at the contact, and the sound fueled Kurt, gave him confidence. He advanced on Sebastian, straddling his hips and pinning him to the arm of the couch, leaning down to kiss him, hot and hungry. He could feel Sebastian's want in the way his hands stroked along his skin so lightly it sent tingles throughout every nerve in his body; the way he rose up to meet Kurt's kisses, chasing his lips when he pulled away to breathe; the way Sebastian became harder with every lick of Kurt's tongue along the seam of his mouth, and the moans that Kurt swallowed greedily every time he rolled his hips down into Sebastian's lap.

"Oh, K-kurt," Sebastian stuttered, opening his eyes every time Kurt pulled away, locking on to fiery blue eyes, "beautiful, beautiful Kurt."

Kurt's breath escaped him completely, leaving a hard knot behind. How could he say that, Kurt wondered, feeling the way Sebastian's fingertips outlined the ridges of his scarred abdomen, grabbed at Kurt's roaming hands and held them – one hand perfect, the other with skin rough and repulsive.

How could Sebastian call him beautiful?

It was because Sebastian hadn't seen. He didn't really know. He'd felt the marks, sure, but he had never lain eyes on them.

Kurt took a deep breath, giving himself the courage to pull away.

"Wh-what?" Sebastian muttered when he realized Kurt was backing down. "Is everything okay? D-did I do something wrong?"

Looking down into Sebastian's confused face, green eyes dark, kiss swollen lips frowning slightly, made Kurt's heart hurt, but he needed strength.

"No," Kurt assured him. "No…you did nothing wrong. It's me…"

Sebastian shook his head slowly, comforted by the fact that Kurt hadn't completely left him. Kurt sat poised on Sebastian's hips, holding onto his hands while he spoke.

"I want to show you something," Kurt started slowly, reaching for the hem of his shirt, preparing to pull it up. "Those papers I read…they say that in some cases your mind can fill in the blanks…it can justify things that you see by being exposed to the truth…"

"You don't have to, Kurt," Sebastian said, pulling Kurt's hand away. "I don't need to see it if you don't want me to. No matter what, it can't change the way I feel."

"But…it feels like lying," Kurt muttered. "And I don't want to start a relationship with you that's based on lies, Sebastian. I don't want to hide anything." Kurt looked significantly into Sebastian's open, honest face. "I want you to like me for everything I am…and this is part of me."

"It might not even work," Sebastian argued.

"Do you like me, Sebastian?" Kurt asked quickly.

"Of course," Sebastian said, looking around with a smirk at the position they were currently sitting in. "I would like to think it's kind of obvious."

Kurt smiled nervously.

"And you think that nothing is going to change that, right?"

Sebastian's smirk fell along with Kurt's eyes. Sebastian ducked his head to catch Kurt's gaze again.

"Nothing you can show me is going to change that," Sebastian said firmly.

"Then…I need to try." Kurt's voice wavered a little. "Please."

Sebastian closed his eyes and nodded.

"Alright, Kurt," Sebastian agreed. "If this is really what you want."

"It is," Kurt said quietly, unconvincingly.

Sebastian watched the t-shirt creep up Kurt's skin. Kurt pulled it up over his head, biting back tears when he heard Sebastian gasp.

"Oh, Kurt," Sebastian said in a voice that sounded more awed than disgusted. Kurt tugged the rest of the shirt off quickly to look at Sebastian, not prepared for what he saw. Sebastian wore a tiny smile on his lush pink lips, his hand hovering just above Kurt's pale skin.

"Sebastian?" Kurt asked, trying to understand Sebastian's expression.

"Kurt…has anyone ever told you how amazing you are?" Sebastian asked, laughing just a bit as he gave himself permission to touch Kurt again, gentle fingers tracing down the lines of Kurt's muscles.

"Sebastian!" Kurt chided.

Sebastian's fingers played across Kurt's skin, traveling across the boundary from perfect skin to broken skin without flinching, as if the burn wasn't even there, the look of awe never leaving his handsome face.

"Oh my God, Kurt," Sebastian moaned, and for the first time he looked back at Kurt's face. Sebastian smiled, trying to pull Kurt back down to meet his lips. "God, you're gorgeous."

"No!" Kurt wailed, pushing away. "No, I'm not!"

Sebastian's look of confusion returned.

"Don't you see it?" Kurt cried incredulously. "Or does your crazy brain injury keep you from seeing that, too?"

Kurt wanted to bite his tongue off after the words came out of his mouth. Sebastian looked hurt, but he made no move to shove Kurt away. In fact, he took Kurt's hands again and held them tighter. Kurt sighed.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said. "I didn't mean that. I just…tell me, Sebastian. Don't lie to me. Don't feed me any new age meme poster stuff. Just tell me if you can see it."

Sebastian bit his lip, weighing his options, and after a moment of silence, he opted to go with the truth.

"Yes," he said quietly. "Now I see it."

Kurt crumpled.

_What have I done?_ Kurt thought sadly.

Why did he always have to push? Sebastian liked him. Why couldn't Kurt just leave well enough alone?

"I see your face, Kurt," Sebastian whispered, "and I see your scar. I see you, the way you are, and guess what?"

Kurt met his eyes, waiting for the sure-fire rejection.

"I don't care," Sebastian said, his face lighting up. "You're still you, Kurt. And you're still beautiful, inside and out, and now…I see you, just the way you are."

Kurt didn't know how to feel about that. He was so prepared for the let-down that for some strange reason not being rejected kind of made him angry.

Sebastian watched the different odd emotions play out over Kurt's face, wanting so much to laugh at the confusion that turned into seething anger and then something that looked suspiciously like lust.

"How about this?" Sebastian offered, pulling Kurt close. "How about we slow this down a little bit?"

"You…do you want me to leave?" Kurt said, sounding affronted.

Sebastian shook his head.

"Not at all. I say we get drunk and watch reality t.v. until we fall asleep on the floor. What do you say?"

Kurt looked startled for a moment, staring at Sebastian for a good ten seconds before breaking into a fit of giggles.

"Sure," Kurt said. "Why not?"

Sebastian sat up, taking Kurt with him, pressing up against him till they sat nose to nose.

"Do you like tequila?" Sebastian asked against Kurt's lips, so close Kurt thought Sebastian would kiss him.

"I think so," Kurt answered honestly. He was sure he had it before, but right now, with Sebastian's tempting lips so close and his taste still in Kurt's mouth, he couldn't really remember.

Sebastian's eyes flicked down to Kurt's lips for a moment, and then back to his eyes.

"Can I kiss you again?" Sebastian whispered, inching even closer.

"Yes," Kurt whispered. He ran his tongue slowly over his dry lips, hooded eyes staring into Sebastian's as he prepared to be kissed.

But at the last moment, Sebastian backed away, that sinful smirk returning.

"That's good to know," Sebastian said, tossing Kurt onto the couch and heading for the kitchen.

* * *

Sebastian snored when he slept, not loud or obnoxious, like a freight train or his father. He made small little grunts, and the occasional moan. He muttered and once or twice he actually giggled. Kurt logged the information away for use in the future.

Kurt nuzzled against Sebastian's chest and smiled, amazed that he would be tangled together with a sexy man, drowsy and still a little drunk; on the floor of the nicest apartment he'd ever seen.

After splitting almost a full bottle of tequila, Kurt was warm and relaxed enough to drift to sleep without a single care or concern in the world, but now that he started to wake up, he couldn't stop his mind from working. He watched Sebastian sleep, felt the easy rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, listened to the little mumbling sounds he made, and instead of feeling lucky, he felt dismay over this beautiful moment that would eventually have to end.

But why did it have to end?

Kurt reviewed the whole night in his head, picked apart everything Sebastian said, everything he did, the way he looked at Kurt with such adoration in his eyes. Quietly Kurt debated the whys and why nots, and after he prepared a carefully thought out list of reasons and excuses as to why the two of them together was a bad idea, why it ultimately wouldn't work between them, he thought about the kiss. That beautiful, spine-tingling, toe-curling kiss, and suddenly every argument, every sad and pathetic excuse became invalid. Kurt knew that when he finally made his way home, he wouldn't be able to bring himself to shower or brush his teeth. He didn't want to erase the taste of Sebastian from his mouth, or scrub away the traces of his touch from his skin. His body came alive at the gentle brush of Sebastian's fingertips on his body, the way they seemed to know their way around, as if maybe Sebastian sat at home late at night and imagined the path they would take if they ever had the chance.

But Kurt was still so confused. It was easy for Sebastian to confess these desires behind closed doors, but would things change in the light of day, faced with the disapproving glares and the people who will most assuredly have something to say, either to their faces or behind their backs.

Kurt needed perspective; he needed to clear his head of the tequila and think, which got progressively harder and harder the more Sebastian wrapped his arms around Kurt's body, this time resting an errant hand on Kurt's ass.

Kurt never wanted anything so much as he wanted this man right now, and that's why he had to get away.

It took several long moments of sliding and careful maneuvering to disentangle himself from Sebastian's embrace, considering he really didn't want to go. But he had to. He tiptoed to the apartment door and slipped on his Doc Martens, leaving them untied for the sake of speed. He picked up his backpack and took a final look around. He knew he should leave a note, but what exactly would he say? I'm leaving because I want you too much? I'm afraid you're not going to talk to me in public?

You're everything I never knew I wanted, so I'm leaving before I lose you?

It all sounded so stupid and cliché.

So, blowing Sebastian a final kiss, Kurt Hummel did what he did best.

He left.

* * *

Sebastian showed up late to class, not looking at all like death warmed over, which was the way Kurt felt, but more so for leaving Sebastian alone in the middle of the night than from the actual effects of the alcohol. Sebastian made a beeline for his desk when he arrived, and never once looked up to find Kurt.

Kurt understood. He'd be pissed, too.

Kurt Hummel score card: Royal fuck ups - 2. Chance of a relationship with a gorgeous man who seemed to genuinely like him – well, there he went into negative numbers.

Which was probably what Professor Evans was discussing. Kurt didn't know. He spent the whole class period making moon eyes at Sebastian and hating himself more with every minute that ticked by. He barely registered the snickering of the girls sitting behind him until the word 'pathetic' broke through the stream of his consciousness, and his head snapped quickly around.

"Excuse me?" Kurt growled, and the girl who spoke, the blonde girl who had eyes for Sebastian since day one, looked visibly taken back, but recovered quickly when Sebastian's emerald eyes shifted to take in the disruption.

"Don't kid yourself," the blonde girl persisted. "He's just taking pity on you. He's doing a good deed, befriending the freak of nature…you know, like community service."

The girl with the auburn curls sitting beside blondie chuckled. Kurt stood, tossing his bag on over his arm, furious that he couldn't come up with anything witty and biting to say. How could he when he believed every word they said?

It was easier to believe than the idea that Sebastian might honestly and truly like him.

The blonde girl grinned; a glimmer of triumph in her sky blue eyes.

"Are these bitches bothering you, babe?"

Kurt's head snapped up just as Sebastian pushed past the bitches in question, wrapped his arms around him, and without a single word more kissed him soundly on the mouth. Kurt whimpered as Sebastian pushed forward, pulling Kurt deeper and deeper into the kiss, spurred on by the heat of Kurt's mouth and the gasps of surprise blossoming all around.

"Maybe a little," Kurt confessed breathlessly when Sebastian pulled away.

"Well then," Sebastian whispered against Kurt's lips, placing small kisses around the contours of his mouth as he spoke, "how about we blow this popsicle stand and head back to my place? I'll make you dinner again…" Sebastian started kissing a trail down Kurt's scarred cheek, eliciting more gasps from those few students left in the room to witness Sebastian's public display of affection. "I'll make you dessert…" Sebastian nibbled on Kurt's ear. "I'll do whatever you want…" Sebastian latched onto a spot on Kurt's neck, finding a place where the skin was miraculously almost undamaged, and licked small circles with the tip of his tongue. Kurt locked his knees tight, fighting the overwhelming urge to wrap a leg around Sebastian's hips and pull him closer.

"E-even if that means watch _Moulin Rouge_ and making out a lot?" Kurt stuttered, all too aware that the people in the room had gone quiet watching them.

Sebastian smirked, placing one last kiss to Kurt's lips before pulling the back pack off Kurt's arm and shouldering it alongside his own.

"Sounds perfect," Sebastian purred.

Kurt looked at Sebastian for a long time, and Sebastian let him look, knowing he was working things out in his mind.

"Does that mean you still like me?" Kurt whispered, a little unsure of Sebastian's possessive display.

Sebastian leaned close to whisper in his ear.

"I'm pretty sure that's what this means," he confessed. "Are you going to run away on me again, because I've got to tell you, that might be wearing a bit on my self-esteem…"

Sebastian pulled far enough away so that Kurt could see the smirk curling his lips.

"That is, unless you want me to chase you," Sebastian murmured suggestively. "That could be fun…"

"That does sound like fun," Kurt returned, trying to match Sebastian's suggestive tone. "But not this time. Let's just go. This party got tired a _long_ time ago."

Sebastian offered Kurt his arm with a slight gentlemanly bow. Kurt wove his arm through, holding onto Sebastian's bicep with his other hand. He made a point of aiming a haughty glare at the girls staring at them, mouth agape like fish out of water, and suppressed the urge to skip instead of walk.

Sebastian put a hand over Kurt's and squeezed gently.

"What are you thinking, gorgeous?" Sebastian asked. Kurt felt himself blush to his roots at the nickname.

"I'm glad that I've decided to stop being a stubborn ass." Kurt sighed. Kurt looked into Sebastian's eyes; perfect green eyes that smiled affectionately back at him. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship."

Sebastian rolled his eyes fondly and groaned.

"Oh, God. Really?" Sebastian murmured. "Did you think of that all by yourself?"

"Shut up, you freak of nature," Kurt reprimanded with a little shove as the two disappeared out the door.


	29. The Muse - chapter 1

**A/N: **_Okay - this turned into a two chapter story. This is for the prompt 'ghost'. This first chapter is pretty heavy, so I apologize ahead of time. Warning for major character death (no gore or description of any kind), alcohol use, vomiting, and allusions to thoughts of suicide. Please believe me that I will make up for the first chapter in the second chapter, and this story does have a happy ending._

Sebastian hated working over his vacations. Wasn't the point of being an artist that e got to make his own hours, work alone, and spend as much time at home having all sorts of wild and crazy sex with his gorgeous husband?

Not this time, apparently. No sir-ee. Since City Hall decided to do a complete renovation, including all original artwork from renowned local artists, he had been stuck in meetings and consultations nearly all week while his beautiful Kurt spent long hours occupying himself at their vacation home just outside the city. Kurt said he didn't mind, seeing as they were doing some renovations themselves, and being alone gave Kurt the opportunity to match fabric to color swatches in peace.

But Sebastian had enough of forgoing noon sex in favor of another discussion with regard to whether or not a Monet inspired acrylic painting of water lilies would be appropriate for the treasurer's office or not.

Sebastian snuck out quietly when a heated argument over abstract public sculptures for the main road islands broke out, grabbing a blank canvas in the guise of starting a raw sketch, and slipped away under the cover of his silver Mustang. Sebastian hit the interstate and sped all the way home, making it to the tiny summer home in record time.

Sebastian loved how quiet and secluded it was in this, their small patch of heaven. The seclusion was perfect because no one ever complained about their loud sex, and the quiet was ideal for finding Kurt, since he sang almost all the time when he was alone.

Sebastian stood still, but he could hear no singing. Kurt's Navigator was parked outside so he knew his husband was home. He ran through the rooms, the blank canvas tucked beneath his arm, obnoxiously making as much noise as possible to alert his husband of his arrival.

"Kurt!" Sebastian called, walking through the vacant kitchen quickly in search of his muse. "Kurt! I need your sweet ass!"

"I thought you had to work this afternoon."

"I _am_ working," Sebastian explained. "I'm doing a portrait of a gorgeous man, as soon as I find him."

"No," Kurt chuckled. "You're supposed to be doing a landscape for the new city planner's office."

"No," Sebastian insisted, inspecting another empty room. "I'm painting you. Naked if I have my way."

"You just want to fuck," Kurt teased.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Sebastian growled suggestively. "Now, where the hell are you? This house isn't that big."

"Out here," Kurt called back. "I'm installing the new track lighting."

Sebastian turned the corner to the patio that they had just added on to give Sebastian a protected outdoor work space and there was Kurt – his intrepid Kurt – braving their fifty year old rickety ladder to install a row of lights with a chrome runner and bonnets. Sebastian winced when he saw the ladder shift and tilt beneath Kurt's weight, but Kurt seemed oblivious, balancing precariously on his toes to screw the fixture to the wall.

"I really wish you'd let me do that, gorgeous," Sebastian said, trying to hide the concern in his voice. He put the canvas down and held the ladder secure beneath his husband. "I mean, look at you reaching up like that. I am taller than you."

"Sebastian," Kurt admonished, looking down with playful blue eyes, "spraying your hair until it stands up to oblivion doesn't count as you being taller than me."

At that moment, Kurt moved sideways and the ladder lurched. Sebastian reached out in time to keep Kurt from toppling head first into the retaining wall.

"Okay, that's enough," Sebastian said, pulling on Kurt's leg. "Get down now."

"But, I only have one screw left."

"I don't care," Sebastian said, this time more firmly. "Get your ass down off that ladder now."

"Geez," Kurt huffed, climbing down the rungs. "You certainly have a thing for my ass."

"Well, it happens to be a perfect ass." Sebastian grabbed Kurt's ass and squeezed for emphasis. "And I don't want anything happening to it."

Sebastian pulled Kurt close, relishing the way his body fit perfectly against his own, like Kurt was carved out of the same piece of stone - like they were made for each other.

"So, you only care about my ass?" Kurt asked, gazing up at Sebastian, tilting his head and pouting in mock offense.

"Among other things." Sebastian captured Kurt's lips quickly, not waiting for an invitation, trying his best to kiss the teasing pout from Kurt's lips.

If Kurt's whimpers were any indication, Sebastian was winning.

The sound of Sebastian's cell phone ringing called a foul on his game.

"Um, you should probably get that," Kurt tried to say, his voice muffled by Sebastian's lips pressing insistently against his.

"Nope," Sebastian replied.

"But, it's probably city hall, wondering where their painter is." Kurt laughed when he finally managed to pull away.

Sebastian huffed, narrowing his eyes as his expression became resolute.

"I'm going to answer that, just long enough to tell them to fuck off, and then I'm getting you naked."

Sebastian peppered Kurt's cheeks with kisses to a symphony of his giggles, then with a heavy handed swat to his backside, Sebastian reluctantly released his husband and raced inside to answer the phone.

Sebastian reached the phone just as it stopped ringing.

"Oh, no," Sebastian whined jokingly. "I didn't get here in time. Whatever shall I do?"

It didn't matter to him anyway, since no power on heaven or earth could have convinced him to leave his husband just as he was preparing to ravish him.

Sebastian heard an odd noise, nothing too foreboding, but it somehow managed to fill him from head to toe with dread. He didn't know how he could feel the ladder tilt from all the way in the kitchen, but the sensation was like a taut line tugging at his heart. He felt the sway as if he was standing on it instead of Kurt. After that swoop of sudden inexplicable nausea hit him, everything happened absurdly fast, as if the universe was saying, "Fuck you, Sebastian Smythe! I don't believe in second chances."

He heard Kurt yelp, then a loud metallic clatter, and a horrifying crack, like pottery hitting the pavement.

"Kurt!" Sebastian screamed in panic, having the sense of mind to grab his phone and start dialing 9-1-1, knowing in his heart that his husband would need an ambulance. "Kurt, honey! Are you al…"

Sebastian got his answer the minute he broke through the patio door.

No, Kurt wasn't alright.

Kurt definitely wasn't alright.

It rained the whole day when they buried Kurt. It was such a change from the weeks of perfect weather, and Kurt had mentioned how they needed a good, all day rain storm to force them inside where they could snuggle together on the sofa and just listen to the drops fall. Kurt was a quintessential pluviophile – he found peace in the rain.

Sebastian hated the rain. He hated getting wet. He hated when his soaked clothes stuck to his skin and the dripping cold water ran down into his socks. He hated the sloshing inside his shoes, and the way they never completely dried. But as much as he hated the rain, he was a pluviophile for Kurt.

He loved Kurt, and the rain made Kurt happy.

So Sebastian stood beside Kurt's casket beside his open grave and waited in the rain. He waited while the mourners paid their respects. He waited while everyone hugged and cried. He waited until the final acquaintance had wondered somberly away. He waited until they lowered Kurt into the ground, and even after there was nothing left to witness, he waited until nightfall, when the clouds parted and the stars came out.

Burt Hummel returned a little before midnight in search of his missing son-in-law, but Sebastian still refused to leave. So Burt waited with him, even though Sebastian was sopping wet, stifling sniffles that he knew would bloom into a full-blown cold.

At some point Sebastian finally convinced himself that Kurt wasn't going to magically return, so he took Burt's hand and let himself be led away from his husband forever.

Sebastian's forehead burned with fever by the time Burt got him back to the little summer house that was no longer a home, but Sebastian wouldn't let Burt stay. And as much as Burt objected, as much as he put up a fight, in the end he didn't have the strength to battle his own grief and Sebastian's, and he left the man alone.

Sebastian walked through the dark house, straight out back to the patio, struck by a morbid sense of déjà vu. He sat down heavily on the wicker chaise and looked up at the clear sky, but his vision of the stars was obscured by something shiny hanging just a few feet above his head.

The light fixture.

The stupid track lighting.

Sebastian gazed up at it in shock as it dangled on its two screws.

The fixture was here, perfect and installed except for one damn screw, but because of it, Kurt was dead.

Sebastian snapped.

He looked around in a panic, spotting an abandoned hoe over by the retaining wall, not a few feet from where Kurt had fallen. Sebastian grabbed it, and with a renewed vigor, he attacked the lights.

"God damned mother fucking lights!" he screamed. "What the fuck did we need these for, Kurt? Why did you have to put them up when I asked you to wait! Why didn't you wait, Kurt? Why couldn't you just sit on your fucking ass and wait!?"

The sound of the hoe hitting the lights and the brick behind it resonated. The force caused the gardening implement to vibrate painfully in Sebastian's hands, but he only tightened his grip and struck harder.

"Fuck you, Kurt! Why did you have to put up these God damned lights!" Sebastian shattered the bulbs sending a spray of fine glass particles falling all over his hair and clothes. "I told you to wait! I told you I'd do it! I didn't need the lights! I need you, Kurt!"

He destroyed the lights, and managed to chip a good portion of the brick out of the wall as well. He stumbled back into the house, rifling through the cabinets for a bottle of whiskey, tossing aside already empty bottles until his hand came in contact with one that felt mostly full, and he pulled it down. Except this bottle wasn't a spare bottle of Jack. It was Kurt's solitary bottle of tequila.

Sebastian's first urge was to toss the bottle up against the wall. He looked around him for an open space to toss it when he caught sight of the paintings. A brand new crop of paintings he had started working on for a new show in the fall – all of them featuring his muse…all of them featuring Kurt. He took a long swig of the tequila to steady his nerves, and with his body burning hot and fire in his veins, he grabbed up the paintings, every last one he could find. He carried them outside, dropping them into an undignified pile on the bare earth. He doused them all with the tequila, gritting his teeth as the golden liquid violated the paint, in some cases causing it to bleed down the canvas. When the bottle was just about drained, he rummaged through his pockets for his silver Zippo. He flipped it open with a click, a small orange flame springing to life. Sebastian tossed the lighter into the pile. The flame barely touched the heap before the whole thing went up in a blaze.

"There Kurt," Sebastian grumbled bitterly, his throat raw from screaming and alcohol, "was it worth it? Were the Goddamned lights worth it? It's done. All of it. No more muse…no more you…no more paintings. I'm done."

Sebastian slowly drained the rest of the tequila while he watched the love of his life and all of his work devoured by flame.

Already weak from being tired and sick, Sebastian drank himself to sleep. It seemed like too much work to trudge back to the house and climb into bed, so he lay down on the hard packed earth next to the destroyed canvases that still managed to maintain a slow burn. Everything smelled of acrid smoke and Sebastian hoped that it would seep into his skin and suffocate his brain. Or maybe an errant cinder would jump onto his alcohol soaked clothes and he would burn to death in his sleep. Maybe a sudden temperature drop would freeze him to the ground where he lay. Either way, without Kurt, his bed wasn't his bed, his home wasn't a home, and Sebastian wished more than anything that he could just find the quickest and most efficient way to die.

Sebastian had hoped that he would black out, surrender to oblivion where time passed by but he would have no memory of it, but he had no such luck. Locked into sleep, he had the same dream, over and over, of Kurt falling from the ladder, and no matter what Sebastian did, no matter how fast he ran, no matter if he never went into the house to answer the phone, Kurt still died.

This was an absolute. It never changed.

At some point before dawn, Sebastian heard a rustle like footfalls in the dirt, and he struggled through the fog in his brain to open his eyes. If he was going to be mauled by coyotes, or even a mountain lion, he wanted to know. But what he saw was a man, at least what looked like a man, and a beautiful man at that, approaching the pile slowly as if a sick, drunk, and urine smelling Sebastian wasn't lying in a heap just a few feet away. The man bent over the pile of burnt canvases, a shaking hand pressed to his lips, and a small, pained gasp escaped his mouth.

Sebastian had an overwhelming urge to reach out to the man, to apologize for setting the paintings on fire, but for what reason, he couldn't explain. Sebastian groaned, trying to form words with his dry, sticky mouth. He rolled slightly, blinking his eyes to get a better look at his paintings' solitary mourner, but when he opened his eyes again, the man was gone.

Sebastian was awoken again after sunrise by the sound of laughter. It broke through the haze of his alcohol and fever-induced stupor. It was high-pitched and familiar. It sounded like heaven and home and the future Sebastian had always dreamed of having, even back in those days when Kurt was dating Blaine and they could barely stand to be around each other. It was all a game back then, and it was a fun game to play…until it wasn't. Until he realized that he didn't want to play games any more.

He just wanted Kurt.

Sebastian opened his eyes and rolled his head in search of it, training his eyes back on the house and the patio that he planned to tear out brick by brick by hand as soon as he was physically able. Somewhere in the midst of his pounding headache and the fog that refused to lift he saw piercing blue eyes – blue like the sky in summer – staring back at him from behind a golden hibiscus. It was in that exact spot that Sebastian had planned his painting; the one he had rushed home to start. A painting of Kurt, lounging on a chaise in front of the fireplace with the golden hibiscus behind him, catching the highlights in his hair.

Sebastian sat up too quickly in hopes of seeing who the eyes belonged to, but his head started to swim, his stomach lurched, and before he knew it, he was on his hands and knees, vomiting violently all over the ground.

Sebastian heaved until there was nothing left in him. He looked back at the house with watery eyes but this time he saw nothing. He got a glimpse of himself, black Armani suit stained with dirt and vomit, and knew that if Kurt could see him, he would tear him a new one. So slowly, ever so slowly, and with that thought lodged in his mind, he crawled back to the house on his hands and knees. He still burned with fever, but his head began to clear, and even as small pebbles cut into his hands he continued to crawl, distracting himself by considering his options.

By the time he made it to the patio, his decision seemed pretty clear.

Sebastian didn't want to live, not without Kurt, and even though he could hear the voices of his family and friends trying to convince himself otherwise, his mind was made up.

He would settle his affairs.

He would make sure his immediate family who always loved him, who always supported him, who loved Kurt like one of their own, was provided for.

He would finish his commissions, complete his obligations.

And when the houses were put up on the market, and all was said and done, he would find the quickest, foolproof, and most surefire way of being reunited with his husband again.


	30. The Muse - chapter 2

**A/N:** _Okay, so I lied. This is going to be more like three chapters. Sue me, it got good._

Sebastian spent five days fighting his fever, barely able to move, completely unable to keep anything down, and he relished it. It gave him something to think about besides the inevitable. Part of him hoped he wouldn't get better, and that the illness would do his job for him. Sometimes he slept so deeply, he thought he was dead, but instead of a peaceful eternity spent with Kurt, there was just nothing.

That scared him the most…

…because if there was nothing to return to after death, his Kurt wasn't just gone in the physical sense. It meant that he no longer existed, and after just seven short years of a life spent together, he would never see his beloved husband again.

On the sixth day, he had enough. His legs trembled, and his insides still threatened to turn him inside out with every step he took, but he didn't care. It was time to get started.

Sebastian decided not to look at his phone. He wasn't going to check his texts or messages. He could care less if city hall called with new ideas for his painting. They had paid him in advance They would get what they got from him and like it. So what if they threatened to sue him? He'd like to see them try.

The painting was supposed to be a dramatic landscape view from a hilltop just east of the county where they lived. He was supposed to drive up there and map out the land, do some preliminary sketches, gauge his perspective.

_Fuck that,_ he thought. _I'm just going to wing it._

He and Kurt had driven all over that town in Sebastian's little red Mustang convertible. He pretty much knew the place by heart. He knew where all the roads led. He knew the dips and curves that passed beneath the oak trees. He knew where the creek crossed the old cow road, and the trails that led up the hillsides.

He and Kurt had made love along most of those roads: in the back seat of his car, parked hidden from view, even lying out on the grass under the sun on one or two more adventurous occasions.

One time in the rain.

Sebastian sighed. He pulled out a canvas and dropped it unceremoniously onto his easel.

This wasn't going to be his best work.

Far from it, as a matter of fact.

But why put one hundred percent into it? If you've seen one stinking landscape, you've seen them all. As long as it was good enough for the hospitality industry, it would be fine.

Sebastian barely regarded the canvas before he started dropping paint on it, haphazardly in some cases, not even noticing with the grass bled up into the sky too far on one side, or how the hill looked more like a humpbacked snake than a majestic hillside. In his head he could hear Kurt chuckling, that cute way he snorted when laughing got the best of him and he couldn't stop. Sebastian smirked at the thought of Kurt standing beside him, teasing him; of how he would shut him up by reaching out an acrylic stained hand and threatening his favorite Alexander McQueen.

"Sebastian Smythe!" Kurt would screech. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," Sebastian would quip, and very soon the painting would be abandoned, Sebastian chasing after Kurt throughout the house, leaping over furniture and dodging wayward canvases along the way. Kurt would race outside, imaging that the open stretch of land would give him the advantage, but he would start stripping off his precious shirt along the way, just knowing he would get caught.

Kurt was always more athletic than Sebastian sometimes gave him credit for. Sebastian often wondered if Kurt let him catch up on purpose.

Eventually the chase would lead back into the house, the shirt discarded carefully on an obliging chair, and Sebastian would win – he always won. He'd grab Kurt around the waist, and drag his body back against his, panting and flushed and hot and just perfect in every way.

Paint would be everywhere by the time they were done making love – sticking to Kurt's hair where Sebastian had run his fingers through it; long stripes streaking the wood floor where Sebastian had raked his nails along the floor, grabbing for purchase; a rainbow of fingerprints all over Kurt's pale skin, down his chest where Sebastian traced the outlines of his muscles, around his wrists where Sebastian pinned him down, curling over his hips where Sebastian held him securely against him.

Sebastian stopped daydreaming when he felt the tears prick his eyes and fall. He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his work shirt, blinking away the memories of an afternoon spent lying in a colorful mess on the floor, Kurt rolling over onto Sebastian's body to make a masterpiece of his own.

Sebastian looked at his painting, prepared to mock the mess he had made, picturing the travesty of having this worthless piece of shit hanging at city hall, but he stopped…and he stared. His pallet slipped from his hands and crashed to the floor, spattering his shoes and marring the floor.

Gone was the bleeding paint and the humpback snake.

Gone was the mess and the senseless splatter.

At some point during his musings he had fixed the painting. It had changed from monstrosity to memory, a vivid one at that, of the rolling hillside in spring, wildflowers dotting the grass, the sun just a suggestion in the quality of the light, and the shadows it threw. If he had been trying for perfection, consciously attempting to make a painting that conveyed the feeling of beauty and the promise of new life, he would never have been able to come close. But the recognition of his own exceptional technique wasn't what drew his eye.

It was the stretch of road in the distance, and on it, a candy apple red Mustang, rolling through the hillside, with its top down, and two passengers inside. Sebastian assumed he was the one driving, but the man in the driver's seat was most definitely Kurt, turning to wave over his shoulder, an overjoyed smile on his face.

He looked so happy; so extremely carefree.

He looked so real.

Sebastian reached out a hand, fingertips hovering over the paint where Kurt's face looked up at him.

_Honk, honk._

Sebastian jumped at the sound of a car horn in his driveway, but once the surprised subsided, it turned to annoyance. The idea that someone who couldn't get him by phone had driven all the way out to his house infuriated him.

Sebastian left the painting on his easel and stomped through the house.

_Honk, honk._

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, you stupid motherfucker!" Sebastian screamed. "You're so important you can't even get out of your fucking car and ring the Goddamned bell!"

"Come on, Sebastian," a lyrical voice called. "Hurry up! We're going to be late!"

Sebastian stopped cold in his tracks. He tried to swallow back the bile that had risen to his mouth at the sound of that voice, but he couldn't. For long seconds, for what seemed like forever, he couldn't make himself move.

_Honk, honk._

"Sebastian!"

That was his impetus to move.

"Kurt?" Sebastian breathed, running for the door.

He couldn't believe he was saying it, like Kurt would actually be there.

He wanted to slap himself for even thinking it was a possibility.

But there he was, racing for the door, hoping against hope of what he would see once he opened it.

_Honk, ho -_

The sound cut off when the door flew open, and for a second – no, what's less than a second? – Sebastian heard just the hint of a laugh and saw a flash of blue eyes sitting in the passenger seal of his uncovered Mustang.

A Mustang he kept covered 24/7.

Sebastian stood in the doorway, trying to reconcile exactly what he was looking at.

A car. It was just a car. Nothing supernatural or special about it.

Sebastian stepped slowly outside and looked closer at it, examining it in hopes of finding an answer as to why a car he barely drove had been honking on its own, and how a cover that had fit snuggly for most of the year had suddenly blown off.

Sebastian's eyes searched the drive, the house, and the field beyond, looking for some sign that someone, some stupid neighbor's kid, had been pulling pranks. He took a moment to cover the Mustang again, hoping that concentrating on something other than the thought of Kurt standing in the driveway honking the horn would stop his hands from shaking.

Sebastian took one final look around before retreating back to the house, double-locking the door behind him, feeling ridiculous when he did. He returned to the painting, to the peaceful hillside, and the happy couple in the car driving off into the sunset. A sudden revulsion filled him. It was too much.

He grabbed a small bottle of paint thinner and doused the painting, watching the colors run and drip, watching the happy couple in their little red car smear down the canvas and disappear. He watched until the beautiful picture was reduced to nothing more than a sloppy mess. Then he turned his back of his memories and went back to bed.

* * *

_"Sebastian! Are you going to wash my back or not?"_

_"Hold up, babe! I'm…uh…doing something…"_

_"What are you…oh, God! Tell me you're not masturbating again!"_

_"Ha!"_

_"You know, my love, I'm pretty sure you're going to wear that thing out with over use!"_

_"Never!"_

_"Then what are you…Sebastian! Are you sketching me!? I'm in the shower!"_

_"I know, gorgeous. That's why I'm sketching you."_

_"But, I'm naked, Sebastian! And I…wait a minute…it can't be that big, can it?"_

_"Yup."_

_"For real?"_

_"Yup."_

_"Are you…"_

_"Kurt…I just spent an hour with your cock in my mouth. I think I know how big it is."_

_"Oh…well…continue on, then…"_

Sebastian woke to the sound of his own laughing in his sleep. He felt so light, so happy. He laughed so hard that tears leaked from his eyes, and he shook his head as he began to wake. The more conscious of his current surroundings he became, the more aware he became of two things: a strange grainy feeling on his fingertips, and a very muted sound of falling water.

Sebastian sighed.

It was raining again.

Sebastian forced his eyes open, curious as to the substance that covered his skin. Lying beside him on the bed was his sketch pad and a charcoal pencil. Somehow Sebastian had been drawing in his sleep. Sebastian smirked. It was unusual, but it had happened before. He looked down at the drawing, crudely drawn, but amazingly still on of his best. He blinked some more in an attempt to identify the subject, and even though it shot a cold arrow into his chest, he was somehow not surprised.

It was Kurt taking a shower, hands tangling in his hair, steam rising around his body, a small half-smile on his lips at the thought of being watched.

Sebastian loved that smile.

He always got so lost in that smile.

He got lost in it now; so lost that he barely remembered the rain…but not rain, he began to realize, as the memory started to dissolve and Sebastian's mind started to wake.

It wasn't the rain…it was the shower.

And just above the thread of the sound of falling water was another clear and glorious sound.

The sound of someone humming.

Sebastian bolted from his bed. It had to be real this time. There couldn't be any doubt. The bathroom was only a few feet away from the bed where he lay, and he could hear the water – and the humming – as clear as day. Sebastian raced into the bathroom, the air thick with steam, the mirrors covered in a layer of condensation. His heart leapt as the sound of humming became louder, and then a telltale giggle.

"Sebastian! I…"

Sebastian threw the curtains open, and everything stopped.

There was no water.

The steam was gone.

The mirrors clear and dry.

He stood stock still, staring, mouth agape, at an empty shower of cream-colored tile.

Sebastian was caught between emotions, a desire to howl in anger welling up in his chest, and the beginning of a complete nervous breakdown.

With a loud growl he tore down the shower curtain, resorting to yelling, feeling it best if he stayed sane just a little longer.

He stormed through the bathroom, pulling the mirrors off the wall, tossing bottles left and right, at one point he even punched the tile, cracking the porcelain and cutting his hand.

The sharp stab of pain caught his attention and he stopped. He stared down at his bleeding hand, his chest burning as he fought to slow his breathing. He stood among the wreckage of the master bath and sighed. So much anger. So much useless destruction. None of it was going to bring Kurt back.

Sebastian stumbled out to the kitchen, past the wasted pallet on the floor, past the painting that still dripped acrylic, and made his way to the sink. He turned on the cold water and stuck his hand beneath, body bowed over the silver basin, as the remains of blood dripped away. He felt his eyes drift closed as the stinging water somehow managed to soothe him, and for a moment he could imagine Kurt draping an arm around him, fussing over him, kissing his temples, massaging his neck, telling him everything would be alright.

Sebastian fumbled for the faucet handle with his eyes still closed, and as the water shut off, in the silence, Sebastian heard a sigh that was not his own.

He didn't want to open his eyes. He wanted Kurt back, but he was done seeing ghosts.

He wanted it all to end.

"Paint it," he heard a quiet voice say.

When Sebastian opened his eyes, the flash of blue he knew had been there was gone.


	31. The Muse - chapter 3

**A/N:** _Okay guys! Here's that happy ending I promised you :)_

The voice had said, "Paint it."

Now, Sebastian just had to remember what he wanted to paint.

An ending.

That's what he had thought right before he heard that silent command.

He wanted it all to end.

So that was the secret, then. He would paint an ending to it all – _his_ ending. How this all plays out, starting with Kurt dying, and then…well, however Sebastian thought to do himself in. He hadn't really given it any thought.

Sebastian returned to his easel. He tossed the ruined canvas aside and replaced it with a longer one, one with enough room to paint a multiple panel work. He collected up his pallet, not even worrying about the mess of paint on the floor, satisfied enough with the state of the acrylics that were left. He picked up a brush, not particularly concerned with whether it was camel hair or synthetic, medium tip or broad, and held it poised over the swirling sea of tacky paint. He had to choose the color that would tie in the overall theme, which he figured would be relatively easy.

He was painting a triptych of his own death. He would start with black or red.

But when he tried to dip the brush into one of those two colors, he found the brush called somewhere else. He gritted his teeth and tried again with the same frustrating result. He moved to swirl the dry bristles into the red, but the brush was pulled to the blue.

"Fine," he growled, pulling up a huge dollop of Ultramarine Blue and hurled it at the canvas, letting the paint drop carelessly with an obscene sounding sploitch, watching as the hulking mass crawled down the canvas.

_"Well, that's mature," Kurt said, watching as Sebastian put the finishing touches on his latest painting. "I don't think the gallery is going to want that one."_

_"I don't care," Sebastian returned, not bothering to look at his husband standing by his side. "It makes me feel better."_

_"A painting of us barbecuing the neighbor's dog?" Kurt asked, tilting his head to the side to take in the vivid imagery of a smug Sebastian, dressed in a toque and a gingham apron that said "Kiss the Cook" across the front, tongs raised triumphantly, and in its metal grip, the charred leg of Roy and Sylvia Harding's Airedale Terrier._

_"You know, I would think you would have more sympathy. The motherfucker bit me," Sebastian griped, indicating his bandaged hand._

_"You bit him back!" Kurt chuckled. "I think that makes you even."_

_"I don't," Sebastian moaned quietly._

_Kurt inched closer to the painting, appreciating quietly all the detail Sebastian had put in – the grain in the wood of the red washed picnic table; the springy hair on the carcass of the dead dog; even Kurt's own ensemble of capris pants and a tailored Marc Jacobs shirt, with his signature hippo broach attached to the collar._

_Sebastian watched his husband's eyes as they traveled over the artwork, his lip pinched between his teeth, his brow furrowed in concentration. Kurt turned his head suddenly, blushing at being caught admiring his husband's handiwork on such a gruesome painting._

_Owing to love, knowledge, and familiarity, added with a dash of the fact that after so many years of sharing the same heart and the same mind they often thought alike, both men moved in at the exact same time for the kiss that seemed to linger in the air waiting for them to experience it._

_Kurt gave a sidelong look at the painting and chuckled when he noticed how close his face was to a screaming and horrified Sylvia Harding, rending her clothes in an expression of her grief._

_"Okay, I've got to get away from this thing," Kurt said. His ducked his head and caught a glimpse of Sebastian's bandaged hand, a spot of red blossoming on the wrapping._

_"Oh, sweetheart," he cooed, taking Sebastian's hand in his and starting to undo the gauze. "We have to rewrap this so it doesn't get infected." Kurt tutted disapprovingly. "I wish you would just let me take you to the hospital."_

_"Why?" Sebastian asked, putting down his pallet and wrapping an arm around Kurt's waist, pulling him close, "When I've got you here to play nurse?"_

_Sebastian wiggled his eyebrows suggestively while Kurt pulled a face of mock horror._

_"Come on, Kurt," Sebastian whispered. "I think I need to undress so you can take my vitals."_

_Kurt threw his head back and laughed. Then he kissed Sebastian on the mouth, chuckling when his husband released him to undo the buttons of his shirt one-handed._

_"You know," Kurt chuckled against Sebastian's lips, "it really is an excellent painting."_

Sebastian stepped back to view his work, but once again what had started out as one thing changed into another. He had painted several paintings within a painting – an image of Sebastian standing and staring at a painting with Kurt by his side, staring at a painting of Sebastian staring at the same painting with Kurt by his side, standing and staring at the same painting on and on for infinity. In the painting, Sebastian wore the same clothes he did now, his hair sticking up at all angles, his pallet dangling from his hand with the paint swirled together in a blotchy mess. Sebastian regarded the painting closely, his heart suddenly racing. If Kurt was standing just a bit behind him and to the right in all these paintings, could that possible mean…

Sebastian jumped at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He turned just as a face closed in on his; cool, soft lips pressing gently against his mouth. Sebastian's heart stopped when the face pulled away and Sebastian caught sight of those blue eyes that he missed more with every passing day.

Kurt was perfect, his ethereal beauty completely intact, just as Sebastian remembered. Kurt smiled, a brief hint of sorrow shifting his features.

"It really is an excellent painting," he said, motioning to the artwork with a nod of his chin.

Sebastian looked back at the image, the two of them together, stretching on into the future for what seemed like an eternity, and Sebastian smiled. He turned back to Kurt, excited to impart what might just be a revelation…but Kurt was gone.

Sebastian spent the next three days at his easel. He barely ate, he didn't sleep. All he did was paint. He started back from the beginning, when he and Kurt first met, petty high school students bickering over the same boy. Sebastian painted the way Kurt's eyes met his, and the smug grin that spread like wildfire over his own features when he thought ruffling his feathers by stealing his pretty boyfriend would be so much fun.

He painted a young Kurt performing at Regionals, and those say something hips that never failed to capture Sebastian's imagination.

He painted the phone call they shared after Blaine cheated on Kurt, Kurt on one side of the country and Sebastian on the other. He painted every phone call after, on a large wall-sized canvas in multiple panels, changing their features as each other changed and grew, and on their respective ring fingers, faint at first but becoming darker as time passed by and they fell in love, a single red thread that connected them, one to the other.

During the course of the next few days, Sebastian went through all of his acrylics, and had to call in a favor to another local artist to get more. While he waited for his shipment to arrive, he sketched. He went through sketch pad after sketch pad, finally resorting to paper from his printer, and after that, recycled newspapers. He painted and sketched their entire life together, and when he was done, when the final painting was set aside to dry, he waited for something to happen. Anything. A voice. A giggle.

Another kiss.

Sebastian climbed into bed, his muscles sore and aching, his eyes crossed from exhaustion. He fell asleep waiting, and awoke the next morning to the sun warming his face, his skin and clothes thoroughly stained, and his husband nowhere to be seen.

He felt like a fool. He had made it all up in his mind. He had indulged in this fantasy for far too long, missed his deadline, and pushed aside his plans.

Well, not any more.

Sebastian knew what he needed to do. He had a bottle of Xanax, a bottle of Halcion, and two bottles of vodka.

With any luck, it would be quick and easy and painless.

He stumbled into the living room, littered literally from floor to ceiling with pictures of Kurt, paintings of Kurt, charcoal sketches on every possible surface, moving to the walls when he ran out of paper and his replacement paints and canvases had not yet arrived. There were so many images of Kurt throughout the room that Sebastian almost missed him, wandering through the paintings, fingers hovering over the drawings, tracing over the outlines of his own face. Sebastian stopped just inches from him on his way to the kitchen, but stopped short at the intense look in his shimmering blue eyes.

Kurt still looked ethereal, but he also looked real.

"They're beautiful," Kurt gasped, looking around him in awe. "Every single one is just beautiful."

Sebastian felt himself choke. This had to be a dream, because the reality was too fantastic to believe. But Kurt's eyes looked sad, and Sebastian didn't understand why.

"Are you really here?" Sebastian asked. "Or are you just going to haunt me forever?"

"Do you want me to?" Kurt asked, eyebrow quirked as he waited patiently for an answer.

Sebastian nodded even before an answer could make its way past his lips.

"I want you here," Sebastian said. "I need you, Kurt. I need you. I need you to come back to me."

Kurt turned and looked at the paintings, looked at the drawings and smiled.

"You painted my past, Sebastian," Kurt said, reaching out with trembling fingers to brush across the image of Kurt and Sebastian together, locked in an embrace, eyes closed as they kissed, caught up in their own little world as parents with children and park vendors raced by, eager to get out of the sudden torrential downpour. Even Sebastian had to admit that it looked so real, he could almost see the people move, the children struggling to be free, the way Kurt's lips moved against his.

It was one of his greatest masterpieces.

It was an epic kiss.

Their first kiss.

"Paint my future," Kurt explained, his image already beginning to fade, "and you can have me."

Sebastian shook his head, exhaustion and desperation turning to anger. He had painted for three days straight just to have Kurt, and now here he was, disappearing again because he hadn't done enough.

"No," Sebastian said stubbornly. "Do you know what you've already put me through?"

Sebastian was screaming, even though he really didn't mean to. He was lost and lonely, and felt like he was going crazy. He was standing in the center of what could easily be labeled the creepiest memorial to his dead husband ever, arguing with a ghost. But none of that mattered, because Sebastian was tired of waiting; tired of being tested and taunted. He had a future planned for him and Kurt, and he was ready to get back to it.

"You're here now, and all I want is you. I don't care if I never paint again. I don't _want_ to paint. All I want is you."

Kurt shook his head, backing away, his body becoming more and more faint with every step.

Sebastian panicked. He rushed over to Kurt with purpose and determination set in his blood-shot green eyes, jaw clenched, ready to claim back his life and his husband, but just as Sebastian reached Kurt, he dissolved before Sebastian's eyes. Sebastian stood alone in the mid-morning air, listening as the rest of the world sprang to life outside – birds singing, insects chirping - not realizing that for the moment Kurt was there everything had been quiet, like time had stopped. But now it marched back on with absolutely no concern at all for Sebastian's frustration and pain.

"Fine," Sebastian said, a scowl darkening his features. "If that's the way you're going to be about it, princess, then we'll play this game your way."

Sebastian put a blank canvas on his easel and grabbed a different pallet. This pallet contained various bright oils – a medium he wasn't all too fond of, but he didn't want to waste time rummaging through his acrylics for the colors he needed when this one was so readily available. Besides, Sebastian considered oils a bitch to work with. It seemed only fitting.

Sebastian didn't even take a moment to regard the canvas, to try and search out the painting hiding within. He knew what he wanted. He wanted Kurt, in his bed, gloriously naked and panting with want, skin flushed with desire, writhing against the sheets as he dreamed of Sebastian joining him beneath the covers and relieving him of his agony.

Sebastian attacked the canvas, and not just with a brush. He moved through the paint with his fingers as he defined the muscular lines of Kurt's arms. He cut through the oil with his pallet knife, giving depth and dimension to the comforter on the bed. He touched and sliced, moved and manipulated, the colors blending till what he had once intended to be a simple portrait of his husband lying in bed became the culmination of all his passions, bleeding through his pores, coursing from his fingertips, burning in his eyes. Unlike his other paintings which sometimes took a matter of hours, this one he worked on all day. He never noticed when the sun began to sink into the horizon, and the room became dark. He knew Kurt's body so well he could paint it with his eyes closed.

And the image was perfect – Kurt's alabaster skin glowing against a frame of red satin sheets, plump lips parted, hooded eyes searching, his arm outstretched, pointing to where Sebastian stood beside his masterpiece.

Sebastian stared at the painting, and the more he looked, the more he could swear that Kurt's image was actually breathing.

Sebastian set his pallet down and ran a grimy hand through his hair, spreading paint along with it over the chocolate-colored strands. He was worn out…breathless…almost completely spent, but one word from Kurt, his beautiful Kurt, would have sent him running to their bed.

If Kurt were really there.

If Kurt was still alive.

He touched the frame of the canvas just as a breeze spiraled through the room, carrying with it the most incredible sound.

"Sebastian," a voice called to him. "Sebastian, when are you coming to bed?"

Sebastian wasn't breathing. He couldn't. A single noise, a single move, and the voice on the wind might be scared away.

But he needed to know.

"K-Kurt?" Sebastian stammered, sure that only the silence of the house would answer him.

"Sebastian," the voice, so light, so fair, so enticing and heartbreaking and miraculous answered instead. "Please, stop painting and come to bed. You have all day to paint. We only have the night to spend together."

Sebastian backed away from the painting, reverently gazing at it, expecting it to do something other-worldly…or maybe just disappear. But it didn't. The painting remained, and so did Kurt.

"Sebastian Smythe! I am going to count to five and if I…"

Sebastian made it to him in three seconds, and that night, while making love to the man he thought he'd never see again, he realized something so incredible, he felt no reason to try and explain it.

He could spend the rest of his life with his husband, as long as he painted it that way.

* * *

"Oh, Sebastian!" Kurt whispered, clutching tightly to his husband's arm. "They're gorgeous! Every single one of them is your best work."

Sebastian tried his hardest to make Kurt as inconspicuous as possible so he could accompany his husband to the gallery and see the new artwork first hand, hung and lighted, on display for a new public of inspired enthusiasts. Kurt was dressed in head to toe black, a gorgeous Vivienne Westwood inspired suit of Sebastian's design, his head covered in a stylish Asian-inspired silk scarf, and large Jackie O sunglasses obscuring his face. They stayed huddled close together, appearing like a normal couple to anyone who saw them. Speculation circulated quickly that Sebastian Smythe had found himself a new muse.

"You just say that because you're in every single one of them," Sebastian smirked.

Kurt bobbed his head from side to side as he thought.

"True, true. I do lend a certain…how do you say…sophistication to your art. I won't lie."

Sebastian laughed.

Sebastian walked Kurt from painting to painting, stopping long enough to examine each and every intricate detail of the individual pieces.

"How many are there?" Kurt asked, his voice exuding a healthy dose of wonder.

"Right now…about one-hundred and fifty."

Kurt snapped his head up to look into his husband's smug face, jaw dropped in disbelief.

"One-hundred and fifty?" Kurt smiled "That's almost five months we get to spend together."

"Try two and a half years," Sebastian corrected, preening with delight at the wide-eyed stare his revelation earned him.

"Two and a half..." Kurt repeated. "But…but how?"

Sebastian escorted Kurt through a set of double doors to a large room whose walls were painted white to better display the art. The huge room held easily eighteen wall sized murals, each with a multitude of different panels depicting Sebastian and Kurt vacationing in Paris, sitting in a gondola on the water, exploring the Grand Canyon, or just 'living' – washing dishes, walking a dog, shopping at the supermarket…and quite a few of them making love.

Kurt was quiet – for a long time standing and staring at the next few years of his life as Sebastian had planned them, and for a moment, Sebastian started to doubt that this was what Kurt really wanted.

"Kurt?" Sebastian felt an unnerving weight settle in his chest. He didn't want to lose Kurt. Not again. "Kurt? For the love of God, Kurt! Tell me…"

"I love them," Kurt sniffled, turning and throwing himself into Sebastian's arms. "I love it…all of it. Our life together. It's beautiful."

"You really like it?" Sebastian asked, a little overwhelmed by Kurt in his arms in a gallery surrounded by images of their future.

"I do," Kurt replied. Sebastian wasn't done holding him, but Kurt recovered quickly and pulled away, leading Sebastian farther in the room to examine those paintings as well.

"But, now we have to start planning farther ahead," Kurt insisted. "I mean, where are the paintings of me sewing and designing? I fully intend on working…"

"What?" Sebastian looked dumbfounded. "How do you…"

"We'll cross that bridge later," Kurt said, dismissing Sebastian's objection with the wave of his hand. "And if you get a dog, I want a cat. And I expect you to make me age gracefully…no premature balding or pot belly. I mean, you've seen my dad."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but he listened carefully, setting all of Kurt's notes to memory.

"Of course, gorgeous," Sebastian said, placing a kiss to the top of Kurt's head, over the scarf, wishing it was Kurt's beautiful, walnut-colored hair tickling his nose with its sweet scent of jasmine and vanilla. "But, what would you like to do now? The show doesn't open till tomorrow. We have the whole day."

Kurt looked around at the paintings on the walls and his lips curled into a devilish grin. He walked toward the wall to a painting in muted, neutral shades of the two of them in bed, Sebastian hovering over Kurt's body, looking down at Kurt with lust blown eyes, occasional highlights of black and red suggesting exactly what moment of desire the painting portrayed.

"This one." Kurt's voice turned dark and silky, a wash of subtle seduction that made Sebastian burn to take his husband right there, right then. "I want this one."

"You just want to fuck," Sebastian teased, taking Kurt's arm.

Kurt's eyes twinkled as he pulled Sebastian to the door.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Kurt said, biting his lower lip, giving Sebastian the perfect inspiration for his next painting.

* * *

Notes:

I decided to write a little note at the end to clear up any confusion. I have had a lot of positive comments about this fic (thank you all by the way), but some people have been a little confused. Kurt wasn't just Sebastian's husband; he was also his muse. Kurt died, but as Sebastian's muse, as long as Sebastian creates works of art for Kurt, Kurt continues to live for Sebastian. That's why Sebastian painting Kurt's past didn't work. Sebastian needed to build him a future. I hope this clears things up a little bit. (So, no, Sebastian wasn't crazy :) Well, no more than artist's normally are. )


	32. May I Take Your Order?

**A/N: **_Written for the anon prompt "Kurt and Sebastian, after Sebastians college friends hit on/bullied Kurt while he worked at the spotlight diner? :)" I based some of my finer details on the diner that the Spotlight diner is based off of, Ellen's Stardust Diner. Their singing wait staff are called Stardusters, so I called mine Spotlighters. The menu items I took from there, too._

"So does the Ahi Tuna Burger have any fish in it?" the annoying blond man says with a smirk, "because, you know, I'm allergic to fish."

Kurt sighs, putting a hand to his forehead and fighting to curb his exasperation while the four fuckwads seated at table six in his section snicker like they are in the presence of comedy gold. In reality, all they have managed to do is waste twenty minutes questioning Kurt in detail about every item on the menu. Kurt wonders for a second just how much trouble he would get in with Gunther if he says, "No…no fish at all in the Ahi Tuna Burger", lets this guy order it, and stands by to watch him die of anaphylactic shock. But in the name of staying out of jail and paying his NYADA tuition, he reconsiders.

"Well," Kurt says slowly, talking as if to a particularly stupid and ugly child, "Ahi Tuna happens to be a fish, so if you're allergic to fish, I would recommend you don't order it." Then, after a quick stroke of genius, he adds, "And seeing as we serve other menu items with fish in them, you may want to consider going to another restaurant…you know, for the sake of your health."

The four men hoot and holler obnoxiously as they catch on to Kurt's ploy.

"Aww, you're not trying to get rid of us, are you, princess?" This comment comes from another man, a muscular brunette with striking blue eyes and a crooked, roguish smile. Kurt might consider him handsome if he could learn to stop talking. Regardless of how good looking he is though, Kurt bristles at the nickname and the myriad of bad memories it conjures.

"Not trying," Kurt says with a plastered on grin. _'Failing,'_ he thinks regretfully. "Look, should I give you gentlemen a little more time?"

_'Please say yes,' _Kurt chants in his head. _'Please say yes, please say yes…'_

If he can get away from this table for a second, he can 'take an intermission' and step out back for a cleansing breath of cold air before coming back in to face these assholes again.

"No, no, I think we know what we want…" A third man with carefully mussed, sandy brown hair and eyes to match replies. He has obvious streaks tracing along his hairline from a poorly applied at-home spray tan. He takes Kurt in slowly from head to toe with a strange, hungry look in his eye. Kurt feels a mixture revulsion and fear. His gaydar didn't particularly ping in the red when he passed by this table, so Kurt isn't exactly sure what this man's game is.

"Fine," Kurt says, holding his pen poised over his notepad and staring back at the men expectantly.

The fourth man glances over Kurt's shoulder in the direction of the door and his face brightens instantly.

"Oh yeah!" he yells. "Now the party can begin! The man is finally here!"

Kurt rolls his eyes and turns to face the newcomer, not wanting to be caught off-guard when the mystery miscreant joins the group. Kurt's steely eyes widen in shock as they lock with a familiar green-eyed stare.

_'What in gay hell?'_ Kurt moans quietly, wondering if the night can get any worse.

Sebastian's slowly burning smirk is all Kurt needs to see to know that he recognizes Kurt right away, even after two years.

"Well, well, well," Sebastian purrs, shrugging his overcoat from his shoulders, "Who do we have here?" He slides into the booth with his friends. "You know, I always knew you would end up wearing an apron and serving me."

Kurt scoffs at the obvious insinuation, but manages to stay composed.

_'And now the hyenas have their leader,'_ Kurt thinks, as the four other men snigger ridiculously at Sebastian's lame jab.

Kurt represses the thousands of snide comments that spring to mind. He needs this job, and Gunther isn't a particularly discerning boss. He would likely fire Kurt for much less than making a sarcastic remark to a customer…or tossing a glass of water in his face. He just has to make it through this one order and then he's off for the evening. But to be honest, he's not looking forward to that either. Another lonely night of eating cheesecake and watching _Moulin Rouge_ with Rachel and Santana.

Suddenly, verbally sparring with Sebastian didn't seem like such a bad way to blow some time.

"Well, why don't I give you guys another minute so your friend here can figure out what he wants." Kurt hands Sebastian a menu. He catches Sebastian's green eyes and startles slightly. The look in those usually mocking eyes is different, softer, almost apologetic…but only for a second before the leer returns.

"Oh, I know what I want."

Kurt rolls his eyes, surprised when Sebastian laughs in a way that doesn't sound taunting or cruel. When Kurt looks back, Sebastian is blushing…honest to goodness blushing, and the slight tint of color in his cheeks accompanied by the sound of that genuine laugh makes something warm pool in the pit of Kurt's stomach.

Kurt is even more surprised that his first instinct isn't to just shove it away.

It's been two years. Maybe Sebastian Smythe has changed.

Blaine sure as hell did.

Kurt sighs as the image of his ex-fiance makes a sudden and unwelcome intrusion in his thoughts.

"Aren't you going to ask me?"

Sebastian's smooth voice interrupts and brings Kurt back to the present. He shakes his head, realizing that Sebastian had been waiting while Kurt got caught up in his momentary daydream.

"Ask you what?" Kurt asks, sparing a glance at the amused eyes of the pack staring at him, grinning, but not in a good-natured or kind way…not like Sebastian.

"What I want to order?" Sebastian says slowly. "I said I knew what I wanted."

"Right." Kurt tries to recover. "What would you like?"

Sebastian opens his mouth, but seems at the last second to change his mind.

"What do you recommend for dinner?" Sebastian asks. The question takes Kurt off-guard. It seems to Kurt that it's more than a simple inquiry. It sounds more like an invitation.

Kurt has a standby response for such a question. Gunther always tells them to recommend whatever is the most expensive, and that's the Walter Cronkite (kobe style lean waygu beef), but that doesn't seem like a good enough answer.

"I recommend the Terrine Board," Kurt says, slightly hushed. Sebastian's eyes widen. He actually looks impressed, and for some reason that makes Kurt giddy with pride.

"Really?" Sebastian asks. "They serve a Terrine Board here?"

"No," Kurt says quickly. Sebastian's confused eyes snap up to meet his. "They have an excellent one at The Breslin though. On 16th West?" Kurt leans in a little closer so as not to be heard by the passing wait staff. "The food here is pretty awful."

Sebastian laughs, and Kurt feels his own cheeks glow red this time.

He's flirting. Kurt's actually flirting. And with Sebastian Smythe of all people.

But the strangest thing of all is it actually feels nice.

"Kurt!" Santana's voice carries through the din of the diners, the clink of silverware, and the singing of other 'Spotlighters' at a nearby table wishing some poor, cowering teenage boy a happy birthday. Kurt looks up and notices her waving him away.

"Excuse me one moment," Kurt says, addressing the whole table but talking only to Sebastian.

Kurt turns, only vaguely registering a whispered, "Watch this" and the chuckle that follows before he feels a heavy hand smack him hard on the ass. Kurt spins back, stunned, in time to see the four men explode with laughter. He stumbles in front of another waiter carrying a tray of food, unable to stop himself before they collide, and the contents of the tray – two milkshakes (one strawberry and one chocolate), a plate of nachos, an order of fries and a Be Bop A Lula Burger - come crashing down on Kurt's head.

That's when the uproar begins. Ice-cream drips down Kurt's forehead and into his eyes, so he doesn't witness the actual commotion. Familiar hands grab him by the arms and help him to his feet. Sobba (the waiter whose tray of food is currently staining Kurt's clothes) apologizes profusely, while Rachel leads him away, but above the sound of 'I'm so sorry, Kurt! I didn't see you!', and Rachel's nonstop fussing, he hears Sebastian screaming furiously.

"What the fuck is your damage, asshole!?" is the last thing Kurt hears before Rachel ushers him into the bathroom and locks the door.

Dani takes over Kurt's tables while Kurt hides in the bathroom till the end of his shift, his head crowded by too many memories of Slushies to the face for his taste. Luckily, the employees have their own restroom with a shower, so he doesn't have to resort to a whore's bath in the sink, and as he doesn't like walking home smelling like chili cheese fries, he also has a change of clothes. Rachel tells him when the rush has died down so that he can leave with his dignity intact, but he can't help noticing a happy little glimmer in her eye as she leaves. Kurt sighs, not looking forward to the days of teasing that little glimmer represents.

Kurt wanders back out to the dining room, his eyes darting nervously towards table six, just to make sure Sebastian and his pack have cleared out. Kurt stops short when he sees the pack is gone…but Sebastian is still sitting at the booth, hands clasped in front of him, and does he look nervous? He must feel Kurt staring at him because his head pops up and looks straight at Kurt, a sheepish smile on his face. Curious, Kurt makes his way over to the table.

"What are you still doing here?" Kurt asks quietly.

"I…I wanted to make sure you were okay," Sebastian starts, without a hint of his trademark snark or cynicism tainting the concern in his voice.

"Oh," is all Kurt can think to say. "Where are your friends?" he adds, not wanting the silence to become too awkward.

"Funny thing," Sebastian says, standing from the table, "they all ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and then took it to go."

Kurt shakes his head and laughs.

"That…that is strange," Kurt supplies, looking down at his shoes, worrying the now spotless floor with the toe of his Docs.

"Yeah," Sebastian agrees. "But I got a good look at the receipt, and it seems they were nice enough to leave you a pretty generous tip."

Kurt bites his lip. He can't seem to stop the grin that spreads without his permission.

"Thanks," Kurt says, glancing up at Sebastian through long, brown lashes.

"Who says I had anything to do with it, babe?" Sebastian remarks, but it's not biting. Kurt realizes that Sebastian probably doesn't say things like "thank you" and "you're welcome" very often, so this is the best Kurt's going to get.

Kurt nods, offering Sebastian a small wave as he quietly heads toward the door. A hand stops Kurt just before he reaches it, and Kurt looks down in astonishment at the fingers now wrapped around his arm.

"Hey, have you eaten yet?" Sebastian says quickly. Kurt knows he's trying to sound nonchalant, but in the time Kurt's known him, he's never heard that strange, nervous tone in his voice before. "Because I haven't," Sebastian continues, "and I would just have something here, but I hear from a reliable source that the food sucks."

Kurt sputters, trying not to let on that he said that in case Gunther is stalking somewhere, listening.

"Uh, no…" Kurt says, "I haven't eaten yet. Did you have anything particular in mind?"

"Well…" Sebastian opens the door with his free hand and ushers Kurt outside. Kurt eyes, with a quizzical look, the hand that still holds his arm. "I've heard that The Breslin has a wonderful Terrine Board. I thought I might try it out, especially since…" Sebastian sneaks a hand into his pocket and pulls out a blue American Express card, "it's on Dan tonight."

Kurt doesn't ask, but he deduces that Dan was the fucktard that smacked him on the ass.

"Ah," Kurt says, nodding in understanding, "so you stole your friend's credit card."

"Not that much of a friend," Sebastian says, "and I didn't steal it. He offered."

Kurt isn't all too convinced, and his expression must show it.

"He did!" Sebastian says in his defense. "But…" Sebastian leans in a little closer, talking quietly into Kurt's ear, "I'd be more than willing to pay if you wanted to consider this a date."

Sebastian offers Kurt his arm with a slight, gentlemanly bow.

Kurt can't help it when his heart stutters at the sight. He can't think of anything to say that won't sound trite, condescending, or downright stupid, so he simply weaves his arm through Sebastian's and smiles, leading him away


	33. A Tale of Angst and Purple Spandex

**A/N: **_For the anon prompt "Seb with body issues". Sebastian is helping Kurt by playing model for a rather interesting outfit that reveals more than Sebastian's figure. (Future fic, hurt/comfort, humor)_

Kurt tapped his foot, compulsively glancing at the face of his watch, huffing at the amount of time that had gone by.

"You _will _be finished getting dressed sometime today, right?" Kurt groaned through the curtain to the changing room. "I need to have that finished by the morning!"

Kurt heard his boyfriend shuffle behind the curtain. Kurt bent over and peeked beneath the hanging cloth barrier. He saw Sebastian's bare feet as he paced back and forth on the wood floor, and a hint of purple fabric clinging to his leg, just above the ankle.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, sweetheart," Sebastian bit back. "If you wanted me to get dressed faster, you could have given me instructions." Sebastian's head peeked out from behind the curtain. "Or you could come in here and help me." Sebastian wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"You can dress yourself by now, Sebastian," Kurt chided, closing the curtain in Sebastian's face. "You're a big boy."

"Don't you know it," Sebastian growled. Kurt covered his mouth with his hand and bit his lip, trying to stifle a chuckle. He didn't want to encourage Sebastian, especially since his dallying was putting Kurt almost an hour behind schedule.

"Seriously, Sebastian," Kurt whined. "I'm cutting this down to the wire. I promised Sergio he'd have this for his audition in the morning, and he's _paying _me, so could you…"

"Alright, alright." Sebastian sighed. Kurt perked up a little. For a second, Kurt could have sworn that Sebastian sounded nervous. "Can…is anyone else out there?"

"What do you care?" Kurt didn't mean to snap, but he was quickly losing patience. He wanted to get this done so he could get home, climb under the covers with Sebastian, and spend the rest of the evening having sex and watching reality t.v.

"Just…" Another long sigh. "Please?"

"Okay, okay," Kurt relented, closing and locking the door to the costume room. "You're good."

Sebastian stepped out slowly from behind the curtain, with none of his usual strutting or cocky bravado, but Kurt didn't have time to notice. He was on Sebastian in an instant, pulling at the fabric, lifting Sebastian's arms to check for bunching, tugging on the Sergered seams for puckering and gaps.

"So, this is the future of haute couture, is it?" Sebastian asked, looking down at the uni-tard hugging his body, leaving nothing to the imagination. "Shimmery Spandex?"

"Not exactly," Kurt answered offhandedly. "Well, I guess, yes, if you're a ballet dancer. Now stop fidgeting…Sebastian…stop tugging…Sebastian…stop…Sebastian!"

Kurt stood to confront his boyfriend, and for the first time in all of recorded history, Sebastian turned away from Kurt's gaze and blushed.

Kurt's brow knit together as he appraised his boyfriend's sudden bashfulness.

"Sebastian?" Kurt pried gently. "Sebastian, are you...embarrassed?"

"No," he replied tersely, his voice tight, as he continued to side-eye Kurt only through the mirror on the wall.

Kurt bit his lip as he watched Sebastian adamantly keeping his eyes glued to a spot on the wall.

Kurt knew that look on Sebastian's face; the one that said Sebastian was done talking. Kurt got a sudden stroke of inspiration.

"Well, good," he said brightly, "because we need to walk down to the practice studio and find Sergio so he can approve this piece."

Sebastian's head snapped up, his face drawn and pale, extreme panic in his sea green eyes.

"No—Kurt…but you said…"

Kurt felt like a heel teasing Sebastian. He didn't imagine in a million years that his little taunt would earn that dramatic a reaction.

"I'm sorry." Kurt ran soothing hands down Sebastian's arms, shushing him gently. "I didn't mean it. We don't have to go anywhere. I was just joking."

Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief, dropping his eyes to his feet to avoid Kurt's triumphant smirk. Of course, if he had looked, all he would have seen on Kurt's face was a look of genuine concern for his boyfriend, who was trembling with the thought of walking three doors down in a purple Spandex leotard.

"Would you like to explain this to me?" Kurt asked, trying to catch Sebastian's downcast eyes.

"Explain what?" Sebastian mumbled, eyes meeting Kurt's and then darting away.

"Why does this bother you?"

Sebastian put his hands on his hips, finally lifting his head, but still not meeting Kurt's gaze.

"I just…" Sebastian looked at the ceiling, trying to find the right words. "I feel so _exposed_ in this thing."

Kurt had to laugh.

"You?" Kurt chuckled uncontrollably. "The man who answers the door for the pizza delivery boy dressed with barely a hand towel wrapped around your waist?"

"That's different," Sebastian argued, scoffing at Kurt's amused gaze.

"That's almost naked!" Kurt laughed harder at what he felt was becoming an absurd argument.

"_Almost_ naked is different than this!" Sebastian pinched at the fabric and then let go, letting it snap back into place. "This is like a big, sparkly, purple flag showing every flaw…"

Kurt cast a glance down his boyfriend's body, a look of exaggerated incredulity on his face.

"What flaws?" Kurt asked. "Where are these flaws of which you speak of?"

"They're there," Sebastian persisted. Kurt finally broke down, bending over double and laughing so hard he could hardly breathe.

"Yes, I know. Shocking," Sebastian griped. "Sebastian Smythe has flaws."

"Well…I don't see them," Kurt coughed, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Believe me, they're there," Sebastian muttered.

Kurt sobered up at the defeated sound in Sebastian's voice, and looked again at his boyfriend who wasn't smirking, wasn't joking, wasn't affecting a superior attitude in any way. His arms crossed tightly over his chest, he stared over Kurt's head, jaw set, entire body rigid.

Kurt sighed.

"Oh, Seb…" Kurt moved behind Sebastian and turned him toward the mirror. "Do you know what I see when I look at you in this outfit?"

Sebastian didn't answer, simply huffing under his breath.

"I see the body that I love."

Kurt bent low to caress Sebastian's calf with the palm of his right hand.

"I see your muscular legs…" Kurt lightly ran his fingertips up the side seam of the Spandex.

"I see every contour of your amazing thighs…" His fingers traveled around the front of Sebastian's legs, touching a little firmer, more like a massage. Kurt could see Sebastian's eyes sneaking a peek at Kurt's fingers through the glass. He cleared his throat when Kurt noticed, and looked away again. Kurt smiled and shook his head.

"I see these sculpted hips," Kurt continued, grabbing roughly at Sebastian's hips, pleased with himself when he heard Sebastian moan softly. "And these incredible abs…" Kurt traced along the visible lines of Sebastian's six-pack through the tight fabric. "Do you know how jealous I am of these abs?" Kurt whispered. He wrapped his arms around Sebastian's chest and hooked his chin over his shoulder, pressing his chest against his boyfriend's back, molding them together.

"And I bet you haven't seen your ass in this…" Kurt's voice was barely more than a breathless whimper. "But it looks absolutely delicious."

Kurt knew he was winning when he saw Sebastian turning back to look at his reflection in the mirror, starting from the floor and moving up over the dips and curves of his own body until he reached Kurt's hungry blue eyes. His green eyes opened wide with surprise, eyebrows raised, but the expression on his face still looked unsure.

"Come on, Seb," Kurt cooed. "Can't you think of one nice thing to say about yourself in this outfit?"

Sebastian tilted his head back and forth, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"This leotard makes my junk look huge."

Kurt snickered as he kissed his boyfriend's shoulder.

"That's because your junk _is_ huge," Kurt agreed, looping his arms around Sebastian's neck. "Come on. Let's get you out of this and go home."

"Or we can bring it home with us…" Sebastian purred, turning in Kurt's arms.

"Yeah?" Kurt liked where this conversation was headed.

"I can put it on…"

Sebastian kissed Kurt's mouth gently, biting his lower lip after each kiss like a signature.

"A-ha…" Kurt chased Sebastian's lips as he spoke, wanting more, forgetting for a moment that they were locked in the costume department of NYADA and not at home in their apartment.

"And then…" Sebastian teased, moving just slightly out of Kurt's reach, "I can order a pizza and wear this to answer the door."

Sebastian laughed when Kurt smacked him on the arm.

"No way," Kurt said, pushing Sebastian back behind the curtain. "Antonio's already in love with you. If he sees you in this, he'll never leave us alone."

"That might mean free pizza," Sebastian quipped.

"Yeah," Kurt murmured, "or a dead delivery boy." Kurt sneaked one last peek at his boyfriend in Spandex before he closed the curtain completely.


	34. The First Time I Really Saw You - ch 1

**A/N: **_This is a little tangent fic for 'The First Time I Saw Your Face'. This is Kurt and Sebastian after two months of dating, deciding to make love for the first time. Rated M. Requested by pretty much everyone :)_

"Would it be predictable and cliché to admit that Halloween is my favorite day of the year?" Kurt asks as he watches Sebastian negotiate the lock to his apartment door with a hand covered in fake werewolf hair and long, black, artificial nails. Kurt rolls his eyes and takes the key, fitting it into the lock quickly and unlocking the door.

"Thanks, gorgeous," Sebastian slurs through false teeth, pecking a kiss carefully to Kurt's scarred cheek. Sebastian turns the knob, letting the door swing open wide, and gesturing for Kurt to enter with a gentlemanly bow and a flourish. Kurt shakes his head and laughs, bobbing a mock curtsy before skipping inside.

"I don't think so." Sebastian struggles over the words before giving up and pulling the teeth out of his mouth. He picks up three shopping bags from the floor in the hall and carries them in, shutting and locking the door behind him. "I mean, you won three costume parties at frats we weren't even invited to, and you didn't have to spend a single cent on a costume."

Kurt salutes with a look of extreme pride.

"And that, sir, is what they call the height of thrift."

Sebastian had originally balked at the idea of Kurt going out on Halloween as himself, thinking he was being cruel to his condition, and setting himself up for mockery and ridicule. But the overall effect was actually quite the opposite. While mingling among students who didn't interact with him on the day to day, people actually looked at him with awe. They complimented him, talked to him, approached him. No one flinched at his presence, or stared…or pitied him. It was strange but, so far as Sebastian knew, also the most at ease Kurt had ever been in public since they met.

Sebastian couldn't really find a reason to object.

"You have more candy here than anyone can eat in a lifetime." Sebastian takes the bags of candy into the kitchen and sets them on the island.

"Oh, I can't eat it," Kurt explains, dropping down on the couch and melting into the overstuffed cushion with a sigh. "It would ruin my flawless complexion."

Sebastian rolls his eyes as he starts to un-wolf, pulling the fake fur from his hands, face and neck carefully, wincing when Kurt's homemade skin glue catches a few strands from his eyebrow and pulls at the hair. He had long since given up trying to defend Kurt from his own self-depreciating comments, since they seemed to be a coping mechanism ingrained in his behavior for far too long for any objection of Sebastian's to have an effect.

"Nope, we wouldn't want that," Sebastian says instead, reaching into one of the bags, grabbing a bite-sized Twix bar, unwrapping it, and popping the whole bar into his mouth. He chews, moaning obscenely, with his eyes squeezed shut so tightly he doesn't see the way Kurt's head snaps around, eyes wide and hungry as he watches Sebastian's mouth work around the chocolate, following his tongue when it licks over his lips, swallowing when Sebastian finally swallows, and then whimpering quietly at the sound of satisfaction Sebastian makes.

Kurt is so focused on the way Sebastian devoured the piece of chocolate, he doesn't hear Sebastian's question.

"Uh…Kurt?" Sebastian asks curiously. "Are you okay, gorgeous?"

"Uh…yeah, I'm fine. Why?" Kurt crosses his legs in an attempt to recover, praying that his cock will quickly lose interest.

"I just asked you a question."

"R-really?" Kurt stutters. "What was it? I didn't catch it."

"What are you going to do with it all?" Sebastian repeats, reaching for another Twix. Kurt clenches his knees tighter as he sees the chocolate disappear into Sebastian's mouth, waiting for Sebastian to close his eyes again before shoving the heel of his hand into his crotch to keep his threatening hard-on at bay.

"A-actually," Kurt manages, trying to keep his voice calm and even in the face of Sebastian's almost pornographic enjoyment of the candy in his mouth, "I'm going to take most of it to the kids at the burn center. They didn't let them trick or treat around the hospital this year."

Sebastian's eyes pop open, the look on his face shifting from glee to guilt. Kurt smirks at Sebastian's childlike expression.

"Sebastian, we have more than enough. You can steal all the Twix you want."

Sebastian bounces on the balls of his feet where he stands, snatching one more chocolate bar before joining Kurt in the living room. Kurt looks at the remnants of artificial skin and fur still clinging to Sebastian's skin, along with traces of eyeliner and face makeup, and cringes.

"We'd better get the rest of that off you before you clog your pores," Kurt comments. "Did you leave the cold cream…"

"On the bathroom sink," Sebastian finishes. Kurt winks, standing from the couch with a now practiced ease. He pats Sebastian's knee as he walks by, missing the catch in Sebastian's breathing at the casual contact. Kurt shuts the door behind him the second he enters the bathroom, and turns on the faucet. He splashes his face with ice-cold water repeatedly, trying to get his entire body to settle down. He turns the water off after he accidentally inhales some, coughing and sputtering into the sink. Kurt scrutinizes his reflection in the mirror, eyes roaming over the splotchy flush of red still visible on his cheeks, the way his eyes seem so foreign and dark. He can dunk his whole head in cold water; it won't make it go away.

Kurt's been with Sebastian for two months; two amazing, wonderful, fun, exciting months. It's not like they haven't done anything – Sebastian's sofa has seen numerous heated make-out sessions, and more jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring, wet dream inducing hand-jobs than Kurt can count. Sebastian is so understanding, so patient, waiting for Kurt to be ready, slowing things down when they go too fast, sometimes saving Kurt from himself. So how should he go about opening the flood gates to the one thing that he put a halt to for so long?

How should he tell Sebastian he's ready now?

"Kurt? Babe? Are you okay?" Sebastian calls from the living room.

Kurt scans the bathroom sink and finds the white tub cold cream, and an unopened package wedge-shaped cosmetic sponges.

"Yup. I was just…washing my hands," Kurt calls back, quickly washing his hands to save face. He doesn't want to lie to Sebastian, and in Kurt's mind even little white lies count.

Kurt steps into the living with the cold cream and the wedges in his hands. Sebastian is sitting on the sofa, arms out to his sides, head reclined, eyes shut; the picture of complete and utter relaxation.

"Well, you look like you're ready to call it a night," Kurt observes.

Sebastian hears Kurt's voice, hears him approach the couch and smiles, patting his thighs with his hands, a silent request for Kurt to sit on his lap.

"Not without you," Sebastian murmurs. Kurt kicks off his shoes and socks and climbs onto Sebastian's lap, straddling his legs, facing him. Kurt screws the cap off the cold cream while he stares at his boyfriend's face - a mess of smeared and half-torn prosthetic makeup, yet still gorgeous as ever.

"This might be a little cold," Kurt whispers. He uses his finger to scoop out a portion of the thick cream and starts applying it to Sebastian's face. Sebastian sucks in a quick breath at the chill, but relaxes beneath Kurt's fingers, letting his own hands creep up over Kurt's thighs where their legs touch.

"But it feels good," Sebastian sighs, hands traveling up Kurt's legs to his hips, and then splaying out to move slowly over his ass. Kurt stops breathing at Sebastian's touch, the way he always does, afraid that a wrong move would break the spell and Kurt would find himself alone, waking from a vivid dream, even after all this time.

"Does it?" Kurt asks, his voice shivering slightly. He uses a wedge to carefully remove traces of makeup from around Sebastian's mouth and eyes.

"Mm-hmm," Sebastian hums, sneaking his hands beneath Kurt's t-shirt to gently caress his torso, one hand running smoothly up and down flawless skin, the other tracing the lines and ridges of his scar. Kurt always imagined that having someone touch his scar would disgust him, but Sebastian's nonchalance, his cavalier attitude, makes it soothing. Kurt longs for Sebastian's touch. Kurt's whole body tingles, his quietly simmering hard-on returning with a vengeance. Unconsciously, he tightens his legs, and Sebastian smiles at the feeling of Kurt's lithe, muscular legs clamping around him.

"Kurt…" Sebastian takes the pot of cold cream out of Kurt's hand and sets it on the couch. He grabs Kurt's free hand and brings it to his lips, kissing across his fingertips. "Would it be predictable and cliché to admit that I really want you?"

Kurt's hand wiping Sebastian's face stops. He watches Sebastian's lips play across his fingers, suddenly imagining those lips dancing over other, more intimate places, and he swallows hard. Everything becomes tight and uncomfortable – his legs clenching around Sebastian's lap, the button fly of his jeans digging into his aching cock, his chest where his heart swells against his ribcage. Sebastian's eyelids flutter open and Kurt can see Sebastian's eyes, just as dark as he knows his own still look.

"I…I'm not trying to rush you, Kurt," Sebastian amends, his voice shaky and unsure. "I just…I want to be honest with you."

Kurt cleans the last of the makeup off Sebastian's face and tosses the stained sponge into a nearby trash can.

"I know," Kurt says with a coy grin. "I do, too. That's why I have to tell you…I wasn't really taking all that time in the bathroom washing my hands."

"You weren't?" Sebastian raises an eyebrow and presses Kurt's captured fingers to his lips again.

"No," Kurt admits, shaking his head.

"Then, what were you doing?" Sebastian's words against Kurt's skin tickle his spine in the most delicious way.

"I was actually trying to figure out a way of telling you how much I want you, too."

Sebastian's smile reaches his eyes and lights up his entire face.

"Are you…are you telling me…"

"Yes, Sebastian," Kurt says, rolling his eyes fondly. "I'm ready. I want to have sex with my gorgeous boyfriend."

"Good." Sebastian sits up to grab Kurt around the waist, and then in one fluid motion, stands up from the sofa with Kurt's legs wrapped around his hips, "because I want to have sex with _my_ gorgeous boyfriend, too."


	35. The First Time I Really Saw You - ch 2

Sebastian carries Kurt to his bedroom, a feat he has accomplished several times before and which never fails to make Kurt swoon since Sebastian can seem to manage it while kissing Kurt passionately and with his eyes closed.

"So," Sebastian starts, laying Kurt carefully on the edge of his king-sized bed, "is there…uh…anything you think we should talk about first?"

Kurt bites his lip, amused at how cocky, confident Sebastian gets flustered so quickly.

"Well, I thought we might just treat this like work-study," Kurt teases, climbing backward up the bed to the pillows, "and figure things out as we go along."

"Ooo…" Sebastian kicks off his shoes and pulls off his socks, then climbs on the bed to follow Kurt. "I love it when you talk like a teacher." He crawls over Kurt's body and hovers above him, dropping low to place kisses over Kurt's parted lips. "Do you have anything interesting to teach me?"

"Actually," Kurt says, chuckling nervously when Sebastian moves to suck a mark onto his neck, "I was kind of hoping to take my cues from you." Sebastian pulls back to look into Kurt's eyes. "I've never done this before."

"Well, neither have I," Sebastian reminds him, smirking at the way Kurt squirms beneath him, his entire body begging to be kissed.

"_You're_ the one who had the affair with that tart." Kurt loops his arms around Sebastian's neck and pulls him back down to meet his lips.

"What affair?" Sebastian barks through a laugh. "It was one kiss! One horrible…disastrous…awful…kiss…" Sebastian bites along Kurt's collarbone as he talks, pinning Kurt down with his body and chuckling every time Kurt yelps.

"Still…I just think that maybe you're a little more in the know, so to speak," Kurt admits. Sebastian bats his eyes innocently, waiting for Kurt to continue, watching his porcelain cheek burn red to match his scar. Kurt turns his face into the pillow beside him and groans. Sebastian drops his forehead to Kurt's shoulder and bites his lip to keep from laughing any more than he already has.

"Look," Sebastian moves to lie beside Kurt and snakes an arm beneath him, curling Kurt onto his side so they can speak nose to nose, "I'll admit to a rather extensive collection of reference materials, both video and periodical in nature."

"Why am I not surprised?" Kurt mutters, and Sebastian retaliates with a hard squeeze to Kurt's ass.

"But," Sebastian continues, undeterred, "I also have a very vivid…very romantic…very hot fantasy about the two of us..."

"Really?" Kurt feels more than breathless anticipation now, knowing that Sebastian has dreams about them together; dreams about making love to him.

"Yes." Sebastian brushes a hair out of Kurt's face, and places a delicate kiss to his forehead. "Maybe we can start there. Play it out and see where things go."

Kurt has never heard anything so sweet yet so erotic in his entire life. Sebastian kisses around Kurt's face while he waits for Kurt decide; and Kurt waits just a little longer than he intends because Sebastian's lips on his skin feel like paradise.

"Yes," Kurt mewls, unable to wait any longer to have his boyfriend. "Yes…let's do that."

Kurt's voice shakes, sounding wrecked and ruined but Kurt doesn't care since it matches Sebastian's voice perfectly.

"Good." Sebastian's eyes suddenly become darker, the pupils blown wide and crowding out his startling green irises. "Well, maybe we can start by removing a few articles of clothing."

"Uh…Okay…" Kurt voice betrays his uneasiness. "You still have the light on, though."

"Is that okay?" Sebastian reaches for the hem of Kurt's shirt and pulls slowly, giving Kurt the chance to say no. "I really want to see you."

Kurt is torn. He's always stayed hidden, but Sebastian seems to have a fetish with looking at him, and not just shallow glances. Sebastian watches him, examines him, hangs over his body and inspects every inch of his skin, kissing over the areas he inspects and humming with delight when Kurt gasps. Sebastian's eyes have never looked at Kurt with anything less than complete adoration, and Kurt has to admit that he preens for Sebastian. He wants Sebastian to look at him that same way when he's lying naked beneath him.

For the first time ever, Kurt wants to be seen.

As he tends to do with every decision, Kurt gets lost in his own head for a little too long, leaving Sebastian waiting with concern growing on his face.

Kurt sees Sebastian withdraw, sees the fire in his green eyes cool. He lurches forward, surprising Sebastian, surprising even himself. He grabs Sebastian's wrists and draws him close, leaning in to his ear.

"Undress me," Kurt pleads softly. "Please," he adds in response to Sebastian's hesitation. He licks around the outside of Sebastian's ear, nibbling on his ear lobe and sucking gently. Sebastian moans. He's never heard Kurt beg to be undressed. He moves quickly, fumbling with Kurt's shirt, eager to have it gone so he can remove his own and lay skin to skin with his beautiful boyfriend.

"See," Sebastian mumbles against Kurt's mouth, "I think you're better at this than you give yourself credit for."

"It's because of you," Kurt admits, lifting his arms to allow Sebastian to pull his shirt off, not even objecting when Sebastian tosses it haphazardly to the floor.

Sebastian yanks off his own shirt and tosses it away, looking down at Kurt with confusion in his eyes.

"When I'm with you, I feel free," Kurt confesses. "I feel beautiful…and sexy…"

"You are beautiful and sexy." Sebastian lies over Kurt, nuzzling against his neck. He inhales deep the scent of Kurt's vanilla shampoo, blazing a trail of kisses down the length of his neck.

"You think I am," Kurt says with a whimper. "That's all that matters."

Sebastian groans, but he's not going to win this argument, and now is not the time to fight. If Kurt feels sexy and beautiful in his arms, than Sebastian is going to show Kurt how sexy and beautiful he truly is. He captures Kurt's lips, sliding their mouths together, tenderly pinching Kurt's lower lip between his teeth. Sebastian rakes his fingers slowly down Kurt's sides, careful to avoid catching on the more delicate areas of his skin, knowing by now the right amount of pressure to make Kurt melt. Kurt's fingers are already working at the zipper of Sebastian's jeans, and every brush of Kurt's fingertips against his exposed skin sends tongues of fire licking up and down Sebastian's body until he begins to fear that this first adventure with Kurt at making love might turn out to be blissful, but painfully short lived.

Kurt boldly wraps his fingers around Sebastian's hard, leaking cock, and he almost gives in, almost lets Kurt stroke him till he's crying into his shoulder.

But Sebastian needs more. He wants to give Kurt more. He grabs Kurt's wrists and raises them above his head, lacing their fingers together and holding him down.

"I'm sorry, gorgeous," Sebastian responds to Kurt's whines of protest. "If you keep that up, this is going to be over really quick."

Sebastian feels Kurt smile against his mouth, swallows the tiny chuckles that bleed into moans as Sebastian slips his tongue between Kurt's lips. Sebastian's hands leave Kurt's to travel back down his body, but the second Kurt's hands move, Sebastian pins them back in place.

"Nope," Sebastian whispers. "These stay here for now." Sebastian moves again and Kurt patiently complies, his gaze burning hot as he watches Sebastian move down his body, nipping, licking and tracing over skin and muscle. Kurt's body strains as he struggles to stay still, and Sebastian takes his time exploring. Kurt's body is Sebastian's playground for the night, and he's in no hurry to leave.

Kurt holds his breath as he watches Sebastian's perfect lips kiss his skin. Feeling it is magical enough, but watching makes him feel like the voyeur of his own private show, where he's the privileged audience and the star. Kurt is pretty certain he could die right now and never be any happier. Daydreams of a boyfriend treating him like this, worshipping his body, enjoying giving him pleasure, were snuffed out long before he graduated high school. Kurt figured when he got to the city that maybe in a place like New York he might stumble across some cool boho guy who was decent…possibly blind…or just not all too discerning.

But Kurt hit the jackpot. He didn't have to settle. He found a man who loved him for the person he was; a man who could see past the scar.

(Truth be told, and it always made Kurt laugh to think about it, the scar seemed to make Sebastian a little hot. Someday Kurt would have to pluck up the courage to ask.)

Sebastian dips his tongue beneath Kurt's waistband and Kurt shivers, deep from his soul, his whole body trembling as it fights its way to the surface, but it's not until Sebastian's eyes dart up to meet his, emerald depths filled with raw need and want, that Kurt moans, long and loud and unbidden. Sebastian loves that moan. He craves the broken sound of strength and surrender in it. He swears he could cum on that sound alone.

Then Sebastian does something Kurt would have never anticipated. He pulls open the fly to Kurt's jeans with his teeth; the buttons popping through their holes one by one until the denim lies spread open. Kurt's mouth hangs comically agape at Sebastian who grins like mad at his boyfriend's lack of underwear.

"Sebastian?" Kurt's harsh whisper carries with it a small thread of nervousness, uncertainty. Sebastian's fingers bunch into Kurt's jeans at the hips, preparing to pull them down, but Kurt's eyes are wide, panicked. "Are you going to…" Kurt stammers. "Are you thinking about…"

"Not if you don't want me to," Sebastian says, trying to sound soothing with a voice that's essentially a potent layer of sin on sin. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. But please, Kurt. I've been dying to do this with you. I'll stop if you want me to."

Kurt looks at Sebastian, his heart lodged in his throat, threatening to choke him to death in his lover's bed. Kurt has to decide for himself if this is moving too fast, or not fast enough. How can a blowjob be too much if making love is just enough? Kurt knows he has the power to say yes or no; to stop Sebastian now, or let him have him.

In the end, why would Kurt say no if he's exactly where he wants to be?

"Kurt," Sebastian whispers, licking his lips with want, but breathing deep to cool down and give Kurt the space he needs.

"Do you want me to stop, gorgeous?"


	36. The First Time I Really Saw You - ch 3

**A/N:** _There's only one more to this scene after this, so I'm drawing it out as long as possible :) Warnings for oral sex._

"No!" Kurt begs, grabbing at the blankets beneath him, bunching the fabric between his fingers. "Don't stop! Please God, don't stop!"

With that, any and all pretense of Kurt as an indecisive, shy violet leap headlong out the window.

Sebastian stares at Kurt, stunned into silence, but not for long before his lips curl into a smooth, seductive grin.

"God, huh," Sebastian teases, lingering barely above Kurt's crotch, his warm breath washing over Kurt's cock with every word. "Well, hold the compliments until I'm done, gorgeous."

Kurt groans and drops his head to the pillow, slain by Sebastian's corny remark, but more for Sebastian making him wait. He braces himself, waiting for Sebastian to pull his jeans off, finding himself tense with anticipation, but with no word of warning Sebastian's velvety tongue caresses his length, moving slowly against his overheated skin. Kurt's back arches off the bed, and he growls deep in his throat with the unbridled ecstasy that courses through him. That first touch of Sebastian's tongue erases everything else – all of his anxiety, all of his fear. Every rational thought he's ever had is wiped completely away; his name, his phone number, his address, all gone. Every nerve ending in his body fires at once, overwhelmed with the sensation of hot and wet, a combination so mind-warping and perfect that Kurt can't imagine this being any more incredible.

But Sebastian keeps going. He takes Kurt into his mouth until the head of Kurt's cock brushes against the back of his throat. A tiny worry tugs at Kurt; an errant thought of, 'How is Sebastian going to breathe?' He rises up on his elbows to peek down at Sebastian just as Sebastian's eyes lock on his. His green eyes twinkle deviously. He wraps his lips tight around Kurt and sucks hard.

"Holy fucking shit!" Kurt screams, and he can feel Sebastian chuckling around him, the vibrations tingling like electrical sparks crackling over his skin. Kurt bites his lip and cries out, nearly lifting entirely off the bed before crashing back down to the mattress. Kurt expects him to stop, to ask him if he's okay, to see if what he's doing feels good (though how he can misinterpret Kurt's primal chant of "Oh God! Oh God!" Kurt can't possibly imagine), but Sebastian doesn't stop. He becomes bold, mercilessly holding Kurt's bucking hips still in his strong grasp, emboldened by his breathy pleas.

"Yes, Sebastian! Don't stop, Sebastian! Yes, yes, yes…"

Kurt's body isn't his own. He can't control what's happening, can't control his reaction. He curses unexpectedly when Sebastian swallows around him, and Sebastian curls his nails into Kurt's hips in response. Kurt can't stifle his moans, or the way his hips struggle to move. His restless heels dig into the mattress beneath him. Kurt's mind begins to spiral out of control, but he does know his body; he knows that he's submitting. Too soon, it's about to end too soon, and Kurt's body begs for it. He wants to cum. But he needs that end to be with Sebastian, together, wrapped in each other's arms.

"Sebastian…Sebastian, baby…stop," Kurt moans while his brain rebels, screaming, _'Are you kidding!?'_

Kurt is inclined to agree when Sebastian shakes his head and frees one hip to use his hand to fondle Kurt's balls.

"Oh, Sebastian!" Kurt groans, trying to pry himself free. "Baby, you're going to kill me, and…and we're supposed to do this together…don't you want to…God, Sebastian…"

Sebastian can hear his boyfriend's voice become rough and faint as he fights off his orgasm. Sebastian wants to give that to him, wants to feel him pulsing in his mouth as he cums down his throat. He's dreamt for so long about having Kurt this way – writhing and desperate and at his mercy.

But that's not the 'first time' he promised Kurt.

Pulling away from Kurt's cock, throbbing against his tongue, is the hardest thing Sebastian's ever done. Even with all of his protesting, Kurt whimpers when Sebastian stops.

"Later," Sebastian pants, crawling back up Kurt's body to kiss his boyfriend, hard and filthy on the mouth, "you have to let me finish that later."

Kurt nods against the assault of his mouth, grinning and giggling, folding his arms around Sebastian to hold him, his entire body vibrating and euphoric.

"Whatever you say," Kurt mumbles. "But for right now…"

"I know, I know…" Sebastian is preoccupied peeling Kurt's tight jeans down his thighs, abandoning Kurt's mouth to finish the job, but as soon as he does, he stops and stares. Yes, they've done a lot, mostly clothed and in the dark, but until now, Sebastian hasn't seen his boyfriend completely naked. Kurt's scar runs down the length of his body, over his hip and devastating his right leg (thankfully the fire managed to avoid his genitals. How Kurt managed to dodge that bullet, he'll never know. Maybe the great spaghetti monster in the sky has a soft spot for bereft, OCD children).

Here is Sebastian's last chance to balk, and from the blank expression on his face Kurt can't tell if he's actually going to take it. Sebastian has always been able to surprise him, and this time is no exception.

"Holy shit, Kurt!" Sebastian's voice shudders as he reaches for his fly, fumbling to strip off his own pants. "Tell me how the fuck I got so damn lucky."

Kurt opens his mouth to retort, trying to find a witty come-back, but Sebastian has left him speechless. He blushes, turning slightly to face away from Sebastian and his too-good-to-be-true compliments. Sebastian sees Kurt move away and pounces on him, moving Kurt's body towards him, hands holding Kurt's body against his.

"Don't turn away from me, gorgeous," Sebastian whispers, his breath hot against Kurt's cheek. "Don't deprive me of this."

"You're ridiculous!" Kurt giggles. Sebastian smiles bright, locking a leg around Kurt's and keeping him close.

"Maybe I am," he agrees. "But I'm the ridiculous man who's hopelessly in love with you, Kurt Hummel, so you're going to have to live with it."

That admission almost breaks him. Sebastian has told Kurt a hundred times or more that he loves him, but 'hopelessly in love' seems like something different, something more important entirely.

"Really?" Kurt murmurs. "Hopelessly?"

"Completely and hopelessly," Sebastian replies with the brightest smile Kurt has ever seen. "I swear I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

"Good…" Kurt stutters, liquefying beneath Sebastian's disarming smile. "Because I was beginning to think I was the only one."

Sebastian's hand finds its way to the nape of Kurt's neck, thumb rubbing along the line of Kurt's neck.

"I love you." Sebastian's lips travel in soft kisses over Kurt's jawline. "I love you, I love you…"

Kurt leans in to Sebastian's kisses, absorbing his professions of love into his skin and notices for the first time, as his body is twined with Sebastian's, just how well they fit together. In this room, away from anyone who would see them and judge them, who might comment about Kurt's horrific scar or wonder out loud why Sebastian would ever date him, they're just two people in love.

That's all they ever need to be.

"Kurt?" Sebastian cards careful fingers through Kurt's hair, scraping his nails over Kurt's scalp in a tender call for his attention. "Baby? Have you given any thought to…"

Kurt's brow furrows as he meets Sebastian's eyes, but Sebastian ducks his head bashfully.

"Uh…wow, they never tell you about this part, do they?" Sebastian chuckles.

"What part?" Kurt breathes, completely lost.

"The awkward conversations." Sebastian clears his throat, cheeks pinking adorably. He meets Kurt's eyes again, refusing to feel ashamed. "Have you given any thought to whether or not you want to be on top or bottom?"

Sebastian bites his tongue, thankful he managed to say that all in one, fairly steady breath.

"Wh-…oh…" Kurt's eyes dart away as he considers. He never realized all the technical considerations of having sex for the first time. Sebastian's nervous laugh against his chin tells Kurt that he may have just absent-mindedly voiced that admission. Kurt conjures up the daydream of his first time that he's carried with him since high school - the cheesy romantic atmosphere, the music, the candles, the bed littered with rose petals - so different from reality with one constant factor the same; a man he adores making love to him.

"Bottom," Kurt says quietly, "I-if you don't mind, of course."

Sebastian's smile tells Kurt that he certainly does not mind.

"I…no, that's great, actually." Sebastian kisses Kurt one last time before rolling away to the table by his bed side, rummaging through the drawers for the things he needs. When Sebastian returns to Kurt, Kurt meets his sheepish smile with a raised eyebrow.

"Just out of curiosity," Kurt asks, "how long have you been planning for this?"

"Honestly?" Sebastian asks.

Kurt nods once.

"After that day I took you to the coffee shop."

Kurt pulls a face that makes Sebastian laugh furiously.

"B-but…but I left you there!" Kurt sputters. "You trusted me, and I ditched you!"

"Yeah, I know," Sebastian looks down at his hands, at the condom in his palm, and smiles thinking how far removed they were now from that day. "But I wasn't ready to give up."

Kurt's eyes follow Sebastian's gaze, looking down their bodies at the two of them tangled together, and smiles in return.

"I'm glad you didn't give up," Kurt admits, talking softly against Sebastian's skin.

Sebastian sighs, kissing Kurt sweetly along his hairline.

"Me, too."


	37. The First Time I really Saw You - ch 4

**A/N:** _So this is the last part of this story. If you've already read the first three parts, I would recommend re-reading them as I touched them up a bit (I didn't change the story, just freshened up the writing.)_

Sebastian's touches are more magic than Kurt has ever dreamed possible. Whatever reference material Sebastian has been watching definitely paid off, but Kurt would like to believe that _he_ has some part in this, too; that Sebastian is reacting to having Kurt naked in his arms; that he's reliving the fantasy he's dreamed of during nights spent alone in bed, longing to make love to him.

Kurt's had them, too, and they're a lot like this.

Sebastian's lips explore his skin, _all_ over his skin, trying to touch and kiss and be everywhere at once. His hands follow his lips and trace along their path, searching out and memorizing all those spots that make Kurt shiver. He finds them on Kurt's neck, on the bend of Kurt's elbow, his hip, his inner thigh, behind his knee, his ankle…

Kurt has his chances, too, when he can get Sebastian to lie still and let him have his way. As gorgeous as Sebastian is when he's meticulously styled and dressed, it doesn't even compare to what he looks like now: gloriously naked, his whole body on display, cut and muscular, tanner than Kurt by far and not a blemish or scar to be seen. His hair is mussed from carding his fingers through it every time Kurt finds a hidden spot that makes Sebastian weak. Kurt is mesmerized by Sebastian's body, especially his skin: the interesting combination of sweet and musky smell to it, its salty taste and smooth texture beneath his tongue. Kurt feels an unexpected surge of power every time he manages to make Sebastian whimper; he gets drunk off it, becoming daring, more confident.

Kurt slips down Sebastian's chest, crawling quick and cat-like, eager at trying his hand at having Sebastian in his mouth, but even in his blissed-out state, Sebastian catches on and stops him, panting heavily, sweating in reaction to Kurt's torment, even in the cool air.

"No, gorgeous," Sebastian says when Kurt pouts. "I have to have you _now_."

The low, guttural growl in Sebastian's voice when he says the word 'now' puts the smile back on Kurt's face. Sebastian grabs his hands and leads him back to the head of the bed. In the heat and passion and anticipation of the next few minutes, conversation becomes less awkward and more rushed, as if both men have gone beyond waiting to be together.

"Do you want me to finger you?" Sebastian asks, his voice rough and husky in Kurt's ear.

"No…no…I just want you," Kurt says, hurrying to get into some sort of position. "How do you want me?"

"On your back," Sebastian responds without hesitation. "I want to see you."

Kurt bites back both a protest and a moan with his lower lip trapped between his teeth as he lays back and watches Sebastian tear open the condom wrapper with his teeth and roll it over his erection like a pro.

"Uh…" Kurt raises an eyebrow, curious if all alpha males are born with an inherent ability to put on a condom because Kurt is sure that under the same circumstances he'd go through at least three before he managed to get one on right.

"Practice, alright!" Sebastian chuckles sheepishly, inferring Kurt's unasked question from the look in his eyes, his cheeks flaming red. "I didn't want to look like an idiot."

"Oh, honey," Kurt coos, sitting up to loop his arms behind Sebastian's neck. "You could never look like an idiot."

Sebastian's shifting eyes meet Kurt's, the smile in them soft and insecure.

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Kurt assures him, pecking light kisses to the contours of Sebastian's mouth. "And I think that you practicing is adorable…if not a little odd."

Sebastian scrunches his nose and pushes a giggling Kurt backward onto the bed. Sebastian sucks in a sharp breath and Kurt's giggles suddenly die in his throat. Kurt's ice blue eyes are close to black as he peers up through dark eyelashes at his gorgeous boyfriend kneeling naked between his legs. Sebastian's every nerve in his body fires, his entire being pulsing with his need to be buried inside Kurt.

"Are you ready?" Sebastian asks, his voice shuddering but much more confident than before.

"Yes." Kurt tries to match the confidence in Sebastian's voice, not wanting to ruin it all by revealing just how terrified he actually is.

Not about being with Sebastian. He loves Sebastian. He wants Sebastian. And he knows that he will remember this night for the rest of his life.

But afterwards, everything is going to change.

Their relationship…even themselves.

Kurt fears change as much as he desires it. He holds on to this trepidation, savors the weight of it – the time between moments when change begins.

Sebastian leans over Kurt with a small smile and a reassuring kiss.

"It's okay. I'm a little scared, too," he divulges

Kurt nods against Sebastian's forehead, relaxed now that he knows he's not the only one.

Sebastian's eyes stay locked on Kurt's as he flips open the lid to the bottle of lube. Kurt wonders why this isn't more uncomfortable. He should be more self-conscious, but he's not. He's with Sebastian.

Sebastian who loves him.

Sebastian who fought Kurt's stubbornness to have a chance with him.

Sebastian who thinks he's beautiful.

Kurt feels the slicked, blunt head of Sebastian's cock pressing against his cheeks, pushing in cautiously, trying to find his entrance. Sebastian ducks his head, muttering apologies as he constantly misses. Kurt reaches between them and Sebastian watches as Kurt carefully wraps his fingers around Sebastian's length and shows him the way.

"Okay," Sebastian sighs, taking back control.

Sebastian moves so slowly that Kurt can't tell if anything at all is happening until in a blinding stab of _heatstretchpain_ Sebastian breaches Kurt's entrance. Kurt can't repress his reaction, throwing his head back against the pillows with a hiss, squeezing his eyes tight and clenching his teeth.

"Oh God! Kurt!" Sebastian's voice sounds so absurdly panic-stricken that if Kurt could get his body to do anything else, he would laugh. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Let me just…"

Kurt feels Sebastian move back and his eyes fly open. He grabs Sebastian's arms, gripping harder than he intends.

"Don't you dare pull out!" Kurt hisses. "Just…just don't move. Okay?"

Sebastian nods, visibly apprehensive, but willing to take Kurt at his word.

Kurt breathes deeply through his nose, filling his lungs to bursting in an attempt to focus on anything but the pain, cursing silently at his body for ruining this for him. He trains his gaze on Sebastian's worried face, watching the strain of holding still crease his brow. Kurt continues to breathe until the burn fades to a minor discomfort, and he can get his legs to relax again, dropping open around Sebastian.

"Okay," Kurt says. "I'm good."

Sebastian moves again, inching forward into Kurt's tightness and heat, warring with himself for control as Kurt's body closes around him, moaning with the growing intensity of it.

Kurt groans and Sebastian stops, kissing Kurt languidly to give him something else to think about until Kurt murmurs against his lips and Sebastian keeps going.

Sebastian bottoms out completely with the most decadent sound of pleasure Kurt has ever heard.

"How was that?" Sebastian asks, reaching a shaking hand to brush the hair out of Kurt's face. "Not too terrible, I hope."

"No," Kurt says, turning his head to kiss Sebastian's palm as his hand lingers near his face. "Not terrible at all."

"How does it feel?"

Kurt smiles at Sebastian's curiosity.

"Full," he reveals. "So incredibly full…like I want to push you back out, but just so I can pull you back in again."

Sebastian grins, his gaze traveling down Kurt's body, his eyes shy and thoughtful.

"What about you?" Kurt asks, fidgeting with the sheet beneath his fingertips.

"Amazing." Sebastian's grin grows wide. "You're so hot…like an oven. It's almost unbearable. And tight, but perfectly tight…like you were made for me."

Kurt turns his head, laying his left cheek against the pillow so he can blush in private.

_Made for him_. Kurt's whole body ignites at the thought. Those words make it easy to believe everything Sebastian says about fate bringing them together. Maybe it is all true.

"Gorgeous?" Sebastian says quietly, drawing Kurt's attention back to his face. "Do you want me to move?"

"Yes." Kurt's eyes travel down to where Sebastian's fingers curl over his thighs. "Yes, please."

Sebastian pulls back, his hands trembling where they hold onto Kurt's legs. Kurt's eyes stare transfixed on Sebastian's face, watching his lip quiver with restraint, his brow furrowing in concentration, the beautifully tortured expression on his face. He pulls almost completely out then slides back in, quicker this time.

Kurt's body jumps beneath him as if hit by a bolt of electricity, and Sebastian stops again, not wanting to go too far too fast.

"N-no…don't stop," Kurt stammers. "Do that again."

Sebastian moves again, dragging back and pushing in harder, delighting when Kurt's reaction is the same, but with the addition of a shattered whimper.

"Yes, Sebastian," Kurt says, stars swirling into view before his eyes. He feels euphoric, light-headed. He wants that…hungers for it. "More…"

"More?" Sebastian doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. The most incredible feeling, the most incredible experience in his life so far, and Kurt wants more of it.

"Please," Kurt whines, tugging at Sebastian's arms, trying to get him to do something…anything. "More."

Kurt is sore, but the intoxicating close proximity of Sebastian's body, the delicious slide of his cock in and out with every thrust, and that sensitive bundle of nerves that light up Kurt's body like a candle whenever Sebastian brushes against it more than make up for it.

Sebastian moves again, no more stops, no more pain, just balancing on the crest of a wave that carries them along together. Sebastian's fingers trail down Kurt's thighs, grabbing and kneading at his hips, giving him leverage to move deeper inside, and Kurt, restless and writhing, rises up to meet him, digging his heels into the mattress as he lifts his body. Soon, what started out as innocent love-making consumes them both. Kurt mutters curses under his breath with every flawless assault, every touch that crosses the boundary from tender to desperate. Sebastian bites his lip till it bleeds, digs his nails into Kurt's flesh, leaving crescent-shaped marks behind. The sound of Kurt's foul mouth makes Sebastian drive into him harder, longing to go deeper. He grabs Kurt's legs and lifts his ass off the bed, hooking Kurt's knees over his bent arms.

The cavalcade of Kurt's cursing turns into a chant of Sebastian's name, which bleeds into a single sound. Sebastian watches Kurt's body go still as he absorbs his thrusts; his eyelids drift closed, lips quivering, moving around silent words. Beads of sweat start to form along Sebastian's hairline, rolling down his brow and along his cheeks.

Kurt's fingers crawl down his body, reaching for his forgotten erection. Sebastian wishes he can take care of that for him, but he's afraid of dropping Kurt. Once Kurt starts stroking himself, Sebastian is glad he didn't rush to the rescue. The image of Kurt's hand working over his own cock, his back arching, body balancing on his shoulders, is hotter than Sebastian's dirtiest wet dream.

"Oh God, Kurt," Sebastian mutters, eyes locked on Kurt's hand as it moves from base to head slowly, thumb running along the slit on top before starting the trip back down, twisting slightly. Sebastian can feel Kurt's whole body respond, thighs tightening around his hips, his ab muscles quivering with every pass. "Kurt…I don't think…I think I'm…"

Sebastian struggles, but no matter how he tries to word it, he can't come up with a coherent sentence.

"Good," Kurt groans with another swipe of his thumb. "Because I…"

The meaning is there, but the words are gone, stolen from Kurt's throat by the renewed vigor of Sebastian's hips slamming against his body. Sebastian fights to keep his eyes open, even when he wants to drop his head back to concentrate on the heat of Kurt's body around him. Instead, he watches Kurt fall apart, shuddering, hips failing to match Sebastian's pace, cumming in thick, white stripes over his stomach and chest. Only then does Sebastian let himself crumble, piece by piece fracturing away as his orgasm builds, surging through his body and out through his limbs, exploding inside him until he can't breathe, can't think, can hardly move. How he manages to ride out his orgasm without collapsing to the floor is incredible, but before too long he crashes back to earth, having presence of mind enough to lay Kurt back onto the bed, withdrawing from Kurt's body carefully, conscious of how he breathes quickly through his teeth, bracing against the sting.

They lay still, the sound of their combined breathing filling the otherwise quiet air, everything hot and humid around them. Sebastian uses what little energy he has to drag himself up onto the bed, helping his boyfriend up the rest of the way to the pillows, which seem to have migrated in different directions. Sebastian pulls the case off of the closest one and cleans Kurt up with it, turning it inside out to wipe himself down when he's done.

Their skin quickly cools as Sebastian cuddles against Kurt, lying behind him and enveloping Kurt in his embrace.

"So, what did you think?" Sebastian asks, cringing internally at the lameness of his own question, grateful that he's lying behind Kurt so he doesn't have to see his reaction. Kurt laughs; Sebastian can feel the movement of Kurt's shoulders against his lips as he leaves a trail of kisses along his back.

"Well," Kurt says, clearing his throat, "I thought it was pretty wonderful…but to be fair, I don't really have anything to compare it to."

Sebastian pinches Kurt under the arm, and Kurt laughs harder, squirming to break away. Sebastian holds him tighter.

"Well, what can we do about that?" Sebastian traces lazy patterns over Kurt's chest, enjoying the dance and play of Kurt's muscles when he finds a ticklish spot.

"How about a round two?" Kurt suggests, peering back at Sebastian over his shoulder with a devilish grin. "I mean, since now I have a frame of reference."

Sebastian rolls his eyes to the ceiling, mimicking mulling the idea over while Kurt turns in his arms, sliding every inch of his body against every inch of Sebastian's so Sebastian can feel just how much Kurt is already rising to the challenge.

"Sounds fair," Sebastian says with a smile, "as long as afterwards I get to fall asleep in your arms."

"Deal," Kurt whispers as he presses warm lips against Sebastian's skin.

"And you won't run off on me in the middle of the night?" Sebastian teases.

Kurt stops kissing Sebastian to meet his eyes with an earnest gaze.

"Babe," Kurt says, adoring the feel of Sebastian's body so close to his own, "I stopped running away from you a long time ago."


	38. Fix You

**A/N: **_Based off the anon prompt 'acceptance', and using the trope Kurt!Skank. Sebastian takes Kurt home to meet his parents, but he has to make him presentable first._

Kurt hears Sebastian's sexy Porsche pull up to the football field before he even has to turn to see it. He takes one long last drag on his cigarette before pitching it into the grass and stomping it out, waving frantically to clear away the smoke. Sebastian is very particular about the smell of smoke clinging to his precious prep school uniform, and even though Kurt despises all of Sebastian's petty rules, he's not in the mood to argue.

Kurt doesn't get too many opportunities to see Sebastian, and even if he hates to admit it, he misses him.

Kurt watches Sebastian strut across the parking lot on his way to the bleachers, flawlessly styled hair catching highlights from the afternoon sun, piercing green eyes reflecting his smug smirk, perfectly pressed Dalton blazer hugging his broad shoulders and accentuating his trim waist. How anyone can manage to make that stuffy suit look so good, Kurt will never understand. Sebastian definitely thinks he's God's gift. At least Kurt knows first-hand that the best parts are hidden underneath, and for now, Kurt gets to keep those all to himself.

Sebastian winks at a Cheerio as he saunters by, and the blonde tart practically faints in the arms of her friend beside her, sighing dramatically. Kurt's eyes narrow as he sets the girl in his sights and memorizes her face. He's going to have a talk with her later about keeping her eyes to herself. For now, Kurt is fidgeting, ridiculously adjusting his torn jeans and brushing off the shoulders of his musty leather jacket, carding his fingers quickly through his carefully mussed pink-tinted locks, preparing for the moment when Sebastian rounds the corner to the bleachers and says…

"Hello, gorgeous."

Sebastian advances on Kurt, picking him up roughly, latching a hand to his ass, and kisses him hard.

Kurt squeaks a bit at the bite to his lower lip, but all too soon, Sebastian drops him back to the grass, spitting off to the side, his nose scrunched with distaste.

"If you insist on smoking those shit cigarettes, could you at least do it an hour before I show up?"

"An hour ago I was in Calc," Kurt argues, his face red from the rush of adrenaline at being kissed and the humiliation of being reprimanded.

"Then try an Altoid, for Christ's sake." Sebastian reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small red and white tin of the strong mints and tosses them Kurt's way. Kurt catches them with one hand, and as reluctant as he is to kowtow to any demand of Smythe's, he knows that if he doesn't, Sebastian won't kiss him.

And Kurt wants to be kissed.

Kurt takes one and sticks it in his mouth, trying not to pull a face at the burn on his tongue, but Sebastian stares at him with a significant look until Kurt takes two more. Pleased with his obedience, Sebastian puts an arm around his boyfriend and pulls him close, nuzzling into his neck.

"So, today's the day," Sebastian coos. "The 'rents want to meet you, so we need to get you ready."

Kurt chokes on his mints.

"What? Now!?" Kurt coughs out, pounding on his chest with his fist to move the mint shards along.

"Well, tonight," Sebastian clarifies. "You've been invited to dinner at the club."

Sebastian pulls away from Kurt, giving him a once over with disapproving eyes, tutting as he shakes his head.

"Nope," Sebastian says finally. "This simply will not do."

"Fuck you," Kurt spits, pulling out of Sebastian's grasp. "My clothes are just fine, fucktard. You seem to like them."

"Yeah, well, that's because I can get you out of them," Sebastian drawls, looping a finger around Kurt's studded belt and pulling him back against his body. Sebastian ruts slowly along the seam of Kurt's jeans, pressing his erection against the crack of Kurt's ass, and despite his diminishing self-esteem, he can't resist pushing back to meet him. "But the fact remains, I can't take you home looking like a skank." Sebastian says it so matter-of-factly, with added emphasis to the word 'skank', that it makes Kurt's skin crawl. He always thought Sebastian liked him just fine the way he was, pink hair, cigarettes and all.

Apparently, that's not the case.

"I do have a reputation to uphold."

"You're an ass," Kurt scowls, reaching in his pocket for another cigarette, Sebastian's rules about smoke smells on his clothes be damned.

"You love my ass," Sebastian purrs, pulling the cigarette from between Kurt's lips and tossing it to the grass before he can light it. "And you want my ass, so you're going to do what I say. Isn't that right Hummel?"

Kurt sighs. He would like to believe that after two years Sebastian would realize it's more than his ass that Kurt's after, but he'll take what he can get.

"Fine," Kurt barks. "What do you want me to do?"

"We have an appointment." Sebastian throws his arm over Kurt's shoulders, leading him away from the bleachers. "And if we don't leave now, we're going to be late."

"An appointment where?" Kurt's raises a skeptical eyebrow as Sebastian walks him to the Porsche, which is currently being gawked at by about a dozen or so jocks and cheerleaders.

"The club has a stylist," Sebastian says, shooing away the crowd with a disgruntled glare, "and a tailor on call. I think four hours is enough time to turn you into something resembling a silk purse."

Sebastian doesn't open the car door for Kurt, just waves at him impatiently. Kurt pulls on the handle and drops down into the leather seat, stares of disbelief following him as he shuts the door and puts on his seatbelt. Sebastian reaches past Kurt into the glove box and pulls out a small aerosol bottle, spraying the air around Kurt with something that smells vaguely like sterile lilacs.

"There," Sebastian grumbles, turning on the air and aiming a vent right at Kurt. "That will make the hours fly by."

Kurt rolls his eyes and sinks into the seats, praying for a four car pile-up on the freeway, just to piss Sebastian off.

The stylist at the club is even more disapproving of Kurt's looks, if such a thing could be believed. The moment they step into the salon, she sighs audibly, making no effort to hide her despair as Sebastian deposits him into a chair, slips the haggard woman something that looks suspiciously like a hundred dollar bill, and disappears out the door with barely a wave in Kurt's direction. Kurt bites his tongue for the next few hours as literally a team of hairdressers, tailors, and manicurists swarm over him. The pink in his hair (courtesy of a gallon bottle of cranberry Ocean Spray) is stripped, his naturally chestnut-colored locks highlighted, and his coif recut. His nails are filed, the black polish removed, and some petite brunette bitch with an orange stick pushes back his cuticles until he is tempted to punch her in the face.

He's shoved into a black suit and matching tie – simple, stylish, and extremely expensive; something he can appreciate but would probably never wear. Polished patent-leather shoes replace his Doc boots, and the ensemble is complete.

The haggard woman removes his piercings, seven from his left ear and nine from his right, but a sympathetic woman with a slightly edgier look sneaks in unnoticed and replaces a single diamond stud, giving him a conspiratorial wink before dissolving back into the crowd. Kurt's never owned a diamond stud before, so he can't imagine where it came from, but he's not going to turn any random gift-giving angels down, especially since this one tiny trinket is the only thing on his body that makes him still feel real, still feel like Kurt.

Kurt looks at his reflection in the mirror and sighs in defeat. A much younger looking Kurt stares back at him, definitely much more dignified, certainly more refined, but so far from the real him that he doesn't even know who is staring at him anymore. His eyes dart at the old hag who did this to him, sure that at the very least she would be pleased with his appearance, but she only sighs as well, mumbling, "If he'd given me more time," and "well, it will have to do," and worst of all, "better give me more than an extra hundred next time."

_Next time?_ Kurt's mind howls. _There's going to be a next time?_

Kurt steps out of the salon, stumbling a little in the unfamiliar shoes, and is immediately greeted by a low, appreciative whistle.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Sebastian says. "Looking good, Hummel. Now that's a look I can get behind."

Kurt wants to preen under Sebastian's praise, but instead his heart sinks in his stomach like a stone.

This is what Sebastian wants. Bye-bye Kurt Hummel. Hello Sebastian's primped pet.

Sebastian circles Kurt, taking in the new look from all angles, stopping to flick the stud in his ear with his finger.

"Very dapper," he comments with a strange glimmer in his eye, and Kurt's heart lightens just a bit knowing that the earring is from him.

"I guess…" Kurt says, disgusted at his own meek voice. "If you like it."

"But do _you_ like it?" Sebastian asks. Kurt hates Sebastian for teasing him, especially at a time like this, but when his eyes meet Sebastian's, he doesn't see his usual cocky swagger. His green eyes are soft and genuine, like he might actually care how Kurt feels.

Kurt is so thrown by this rarely seen side of Sebastian Smythe, he doesn't answer right away.

Sebastian shakes his head and answers for him.

"You don't have to say anything," Sebastian says. "I know you hate it. I can see it in your eyes."

"I don't _hate_ it," Kurt says finally. "And I wouldn't have minded so much if you'd asked me, just this once, to make a change. I just…"

Kurt's words drift away, but Sebastian's not willing to let it die. He leans in close.

"Just what, Kurt?" he asks.

"I just want to know that you like me the way I am." Kurt looks into Sebastian's eyes. "I thought you did. You used to."

Sebastian smiles, rolling his eyes and trying to look put-out by Kurt's cluelessness, but manages to look more chagrined instead.

"I do like you the way you are," Sebastian says, kissing Kurt on the forehead. "Can you forgive me for being an ass?"

"I'll forgive you," Kurt says, "but I don't see that changing any time soon."

Sebastian smacks Kurt on the ass in full view of passersby, and smirks at the disapproving looks he earns.

"Fine," Sebastian says. "Do you want to change?"

Kurt's head snaps up to meet Sebastian's, eyes wide with disbelief.

"You'd be okay with that?" Kurt asks. "You'd be okay with me putting on my ripped jeans and my old t-shirt, and meeting your parents?"

"Yup," Sebastian says, "if it makes you happy."

Kurt looks up at the ceiling, affecting a look of deep thought. He pulls out of Sebastian's arms to look down at his suit.

"You know what?" Kurt says, "I think I'm good. I'm not so far removed from my days of thumbing through Vogue that I can't appreciate a classic black Armani suit."

"Are you sure?" Sebastian asks. "You don't have to do this for me, you know."

"I know that now," Kurt answers brightly. "But deep inside me, I think, is a man who likes to wear a suit."

Sebastian laughs; a sound that's surprisingly warm and comforting.

"And," Kurt adds, turning his head to show off his bedazzled ear, "I think diamonds suit me."

"Well, it's all yours," Sebastian says, chuckling again when Kurt's eyes go wide. "Consider it a thank you for going through all this."

"You know," Kurt says coyly, crowding back into his boyfriend's arms, "if you keep this up, people are going to think that you 'more than' like me."

Sebastian takes a quick peek around and Kurt becomes disheartened, wondering who Sebastian is worried about seeing them. Sebastian darts away quickly, but before Kurt has a chance to consider the implications, he returns, slipping something thick and heavy over Kurt's shoulders. Kurt reaches up to grab at the weight, his fingers coming in contact with the collar of his leather jacket.

"I think, Kurt Hummel, I might just 'more than' like you."

Sebastian shakes his head, taking his stunned boyfriend's arm, and leading him away.


	39. My Demon Lover

**A/N:_ So here is a one-shot I wrote for the anon prompt 'incubus'. It's kind of dark, considering the nature of incubus and how they view humans. Demon!Kurt. Future fic, supernatural, angst, mention of Huntbastian. Rated M._  
**

He's gorgeous. Flawless. If you see him, partaking in the nightlife; weaving amongst the fabulous, overindulgent people of the city; he may just seem like another glamorously dressed hard-body with just one exception. He has no soul. He's poison, and death eventually follows where he goes. He preys on the beautiful and the righteous. Those who would not stray fall at his feet. Those who would not hurt another would gladly kill for a night with him. Nothing grows when he is near, except for the overwhelming desire to be his.

He collects stalwart people and ruins them; turns them into his willing slaves just for the honor of a night in his bed, but after that, there's no turning back. No human is ever good enough. No happiness as fulfilling. People waste away their lives seeking him out, or praying that he will come to them, but no prayers have ever reached him. He is a demon of the basest desires, fallen, feeding off the raw need that doesn't always give itself freely.

But that's okay, because Kurt lives for the challenge, and he finds one in a man who is truly and helplessly in love; a green-eyed Adonis wrapped blissfully in the arms of another lover.

And Kurt can't wait for his chance to tear them apart.

He follows them home from a night spent out enjoying the town. He can read their minds. See into their hearts. One is called Hunter, but the one the demon wants is named Sebastian.

Sebastian.

Sebastian who volunteers weekends at the local children's hospital.

Sebastian who calls his mother three times a week.

Sebastian who is deeply in love with his boyfriend of two years.

In fact, Sebastian is planning to ask Hunter to marry him soon.

Kurt found Sebastian just in time. When love is ripe like this, it's so much fun to destroy. Kurt grins, vicious and cruel, teeth pointed for just a second as he gives in to his nature and fully enjoys the rapture of this moment.

He waits until the two climb into bed together, dizzy from a little too much tequila and a lot of erotic dancing, and watches from the window as they make love. Kurt is intrigued by the way Sebastian seems to submit to Hunter. In Kurt's eyes, Hunter is nothing special – a few muscles, an obvious dye job, capped teeth and pale (to the point of almost colorless) green eyes. Sebastian lies beneath him, and moans almost predictably, but Kurt notices how Sebastian squeezes his eyes tight when Hunter isn't looking, and Kurt smiles.

Kurt knows that game.

Sebastian is imagining someone else.

That's not to say that Sebastian is disloyal. Kurt wouldn't be so attracted to him if he were. But Sebastian has a type, something different from Hunter that really gets him off. Kurt searches his fantasies and immediately comes up with a façade that can overwhelm Sebastian; the visage of a man right out of his dirtiest dreams.

Kurt is not a patient demon, and even after a few minutes of intercourse, Kurt becomes bored with the show. He speeds things along, insuring that Hunter gets his 'happy ending' and drops quickly to sleep, while Sebastian is left, disappointed and wanting.

Sebastian sighs, too frustrated to keep from crying his distress, but too tired to do anything about his condition, and he falls asleep unfulfilled.

He falls asleep vulnerable.

Sebastian drifts in and out of sleep, between the point of awake and dreaming, when Kurt makes his move, creeping in like a venomous snake, curling along the floor, an intangible wisp of black smoke darkening the air. He approaches the bed and shifts, taking a corporal form, much like the one he plans to adopt to seduce his new lover.

Kurt paces around the bed from one side to the other, first regarding Sebastian, then Hunter, wondering what in the hell Sebastian could possibly see in this plasticky-looking man. Kurt resists the urge to invade his dreams, lock him in a nightmare of losing his precious Sebastian, of seeing him walk away without a backward glance.

But Kurt decides to save that for later.

Kurt turns when Sebastian whimpers, knowing his time has come. He rescues his beautiful human lover from a troubled, stressful sleep, climbing on top of him, entering inside of him, filling his dreams with visions of his body moving over him. Sebastian can see eyes, blue as ice but filled with an almost other-worldly warmth and affection, staring down at him; met by a smile that can put the sun to shame; and skin of pure alabaster, as if it was carved from stone. Sebastian can feel this amazing body all around him, sliding against him, wrapped around his neglected cock, pulsing inside him. Every inch of him is covered in a sensation of skin and tongue and wet and heat and he almost cries out into the darkness.

"Are…are you really here?" he asks instead, speaking more with his mind and his heart than his mouth.

"Yes," the demon reassures him as he continues to fill Sebastian's body with his addictive pleasure. "I came here for you. Just for you. And now you belong to me."

For some reason, this is what Sebastian has been waiting for, even laying here beside his lover, the man he swore he would marry. Sebastian choses this dream instead, and lets it envelope him. Along with the almost never-ending, blinding ecstasy that builds and builds with almost no end in sight, leaving him exhausted and sated in a way he's never known, he feels something small and sharp, like a tiny thorn, worm its way into his heart. But that feeling is so insignificant in the face of his momentous release, he allows it to linger, to let it burn, with little more thought about it than a brief recognition of its existence.

Sebastian falls asleep in the arms of an invisible man from his dreams while deep inside his innocent soul a tiny burr is left.

The next morning, Sebastian finds it hard to concentrate on even the tiniest task. Buttoning up his shirt, putting a Windsor knot in his tie, even styling his hair takes more thought than he can muster. He still feels the heat of that incredible night. It crawls beneath his skin, itching away at places he can't scratch, places he can't reach. It's inside him. He needs to find it.

Sebastian's heart changes, craving his demon lover to the detriment of all else. The first victim of Sebastian's deviance is Hunter; poor, clueless Hunter. He tries to comfort his love, tries to hold him, but Sebastian yells and pushes him away. Sebastian calls him worthless, calls him an asshole, throws every barb he has and comes up with a few new ones, and by the time he's done, Hunter leaves in tears and vows silently never to return.

Sebastian doesn't go to work. Why does he need to work anyway? His trust fund will last him for the rest of his life if he uses it carefully. Food and rent are really all the worldly comforts he needs. Something to keep him going and a place to sit and wait – that will do.

Sebastian calls it a night at around 7:30 – just an hour after sunset. He hasn't eaten a thing. He hasn't left his apartment. He spent the day in a chair pushed up to the window, letting the minutes tick by. Life went by around him even if he wasn't an active participant.

Kurt knows all this. He settled in a corner of Sebastian's apartment and watched. He made Sebastian wait, let the little thorn needle its way deeper until Kurt was sure that Sebastian belonged to him without question, that he was willing to give up his entire world, his own happiness and the happiness of those around him, just for another taste of Kurt.

Kurt waits until the darkness is at its peak, and Sebastian has slipped into a restless sleep, afraid that his dream lover has abandoned him. He doesn't mourn all the things he's given up. He only despairs for this one thing that he's afraid he's lost. He gives in to self-loathing, curses himself for not being enough, despises his looks and his voice and his clothes. He breaks himself down to only his faults.

It's this moment that Kurt chooses to come to his rescue.

"You're here," Sebastian sighs with a wash of relief when those crystal blue eyes come into view. "I was afraid I wouldn't see you again."

"Poor Sebastian," Kurt coos condescendingly. "I'll never leave you."

Sebastian nods, content that this gorgeous man is telling him the truth, and for his loyalty and obedience, Kurt takes him over, bleeds into him until his essence fills Sebastian's body. He races through his veins, wraps around his spine, and completes him from the inside of his soul to the surface of his skin. Every one of Sebastian's senses is filled with him – he tastes him on his tongue, and smells the masculine scent of him with every intake of breath. He feels Kurt all over, brushing against his lips, covering him with his warmth, fingering him deep and caressing his aching length with his mouth. Sebastian arches his back and cries out. This is what it is to be devoured, consumed, taken for everything he is with nothing left behind. Sebastian's body is taken to its limit, again and again, cumming with the demon's voice singing sweetly in his ears, making dark promises, spouting poetry and sonnets which might be empty and void except for one thing…

This demon, in this one insignificant human, this mortal plaything, has found a way, his own way, to love.

It's a cold comfort, though. Demons can't really, truly love, and even if he could, he doesn't have anything but lies to offer.

But Sebastian belongs to Kurt, and Kurt doesn't share his things.

There is nothing left in life for Sebastian but this – the waiting for his demon lover to return, filled to the brim through the day with hatred and self-doubt, until the sun sets and he gets to bask in the complete fulfillment of his demon's empty love.


	40. Read To Me

**A/N:** _Sebastian is an Indie film maker doing a companion project to the Hysterical Literature series, using men instead of women. Kurt volunteers, which requires him to read from a book with a vibrator inserted in his ass…a vibrator that Sebastian controls. Rated M for voyeurism, anal masturbation, and consensual forced orgasm. (3,789 words) This is a short fic of my own invention based off the project Hysterical Literature. You can look up the videos on YouTube. "Hysterical Literature is a video art series by NYC-based photographer and filmmaker Clayton Cubitt. It explores feminism, mind/body dualism, distraction portraiture, and the contrast between culture and sexuality." (Disclaimer: I do not own Hysterical Literature, nor do I own rights to the book Kurt reads from Patti LuPone: A Memoir.)_

Kurt paces the studio, butterflies gathering in his stomach as he mulls over the details of the project he moronically volunteered for. Why did he do this? Why does he let Rachel talk him into shit just because she's too afraid to take risks of her own?

"Think about it, Kurt," Rachel had argued, "it's cutting edge…artistic…people will search for Kurt Hummel, and do you know what they'll see nestled in among a dated _Single Ladies_ video? You reading from the memoir of the legendary Patti LuPone's, looking trendy and Indie…"

"Yeah, and having an orgasm!" Kurt had balked, walking away from her since there wasn't enough room to run.

"It's in black and white, Kurt," Rachel had continued. "You know how good you look in black and white."

"Why are you talking me into this?" Kurt had spun on her, still not able to shake the expression of disgust from his face. "Didn't we decide that nudity and selling sex was cheap? Isn't that why you didn't get naked for that disastrous student film?"

"You're not selling anything," she had persisted, following him as he gathered up his school books and headed for the door. "It's all volunteer. And there is no nudity. This could really help your image, you know. Help you expand beyond your boundaries, make people see you as a sexy, desirable, _leading_ man."

This was when Kurt paused, and Rachel knew she had him. The idea of someone other than his ex-boyfriend Blaine seeing him as sexy was one of the biggest thorns in his side. Not being sexy lost him the part of Tony in McKinley High School's performance of West Side Story ( a role he lost, incidentally, to his ex). It burned him up inside then, and he hated to admit it, especially with all the changes he had made since working for Vogue and getting into NYADA, it burned him up still.

Praying on his weakness forced him to backpedal, and agreeing to her asinine idea landed him here, in a dark and chilly room, waiting for someone to tell him what method of sexual torture he would have to endure while reading out loud from _Patti LuPone: A Memoir._

He hears a few sharp knocks on the door and braces himself for whatever pimply, gangly, awkward-looking intern or lackey is going to walk through, so he's completely stunned when the man who enters in anything but gangly or awkward. In fact, the smug faced Adonis who saunters effortlessly into the room is everything Kurt pictures when he hears the words 'Indie film maker' – a man with impeccable fashion taste who tries hard to make himself look brooding and earthy; smoldering green eyes; smooth, tanned skin; and a mouth Kurt is sure has committed over a hundred and one carnal sins. He wears tight, black jeans with a black Henley to match, paired with an ankle length vintage duster and an almost whimsical, shabby chic scarf. If Kurt saw this man on the street, he would say that this outfit doth protest too much, trying way too hard to be perceived as cool, but here in this small studio, about to film such a taboo movie, it all works.

"Hello," the man says, and Kurt gasps when he hears just how perfect a match his voice is to that sinful-looking mouth. "My name is Sebastian Smythe. Thank you for joining me on this project."

"Uh…Kurt," Kurt says, thankfully remembering his name and figuring out how to speak. "Kurt Hummel…and you're welcome, I guess."

Sebastian extends his hand, and Kurt takes it, shaking it once. Sebastian's skin is soft and warm and Kurt doesn't want to let go, but he doesn't feel like making an ass of himself either.

"So, do you know anything about the project?" Sebastian asks, pulling two chairs up to a long table in the center of the room, and motioning for Kurt to sit down in one while he occupies the other.

"A little," Kurt admits, dropping down into the uncomfortable hard-plastic chair. "I know about the videos on YouTube, but I haven't seen them yet." Kurt bites his lip sheepishly, embarrassed to admit that he knows so little about what he's doing here.

"Well, I'm producing a companion project to something another artist here in New York is doing called Hysterical Literature. Clayton Cubitt has a series of videos that explore feminism and mind-body dualism using distraction portraiture as a medium. I'm doing something similar, but with men instead of women, with more of a focus on the distraction."

Kurt's face must look blank or confused, or maybe he looks sick because Sebastian puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently.

"Here's the deal," Sebastian says, his voice soft, almost intimate. "You're going to put in a vibrator, you're going to sit at this table, and you're going to read to me."

Kurt doesn't want Sebastian to stop talking in that magical, soothing voice, but at the mention of a vibrator Kurt turns his head and notices for the first time on the table in front of him a blister package containing a brand-new butt plug vibrator with a remote control attachment and beside it an almost ridiculously large bottle of anal lube.

Kurt picks up the vibrator and looks it over, all too aware of Sebastian's eyes on him, watching him for a reaction.

"Uh…this has an unusually long cord, doesn't it?" Kurt says, flipping it around in his hands and looking the arrowhead-shaped plug over from all angles.

"I have them special made," Sebastian says, his voice lowering again in a way that grabs Kurt's undivided attention. "This way _I_ get to control it…from behind the camera."

Kurt turns to face Sebastian, and his eyes are suddenly a trap that Kurt cannot get away from. For a brief moment, Kurt wonders if Sebastian is flirting with him.

_Please let him be flirting with me_, he thinks.

It would make it so much easier to masturbate in front of him if he knew that Sebastian found him even remotely attractive.

The plug is larger than he's used to, and a little uncomfortable, but none of that impacts him quite so much as when Sebastian saunters up beside him and takes the remote from his hand, knocking him a suggestive wink before he walks away. Kurt swallows hard and looks into the camera, ignoring the slight tug of the cord that threads into his skinny jeans, running down the back and through the crack in his ass. This is his last chance to bolt; to pull the plug, as it were, and head for the hills. But Kurt is tired of running away. He's taking a risk, even if it means embarrassing the ever living shit out of himself.

Kurt smiles, reaching out for all of the confidence contained in even the most insignificant cell of his body.

"Rolling," Sebastian prompts simply, smiling with a single thought in his head.

_Let the games begin._

"Hello. I'm Kurt Hummel, and today I'll be reading a passage from _Patti LuPone: A Memoir_." Kurt turns the book to the camera so that everyone in YouTube land can see. He opens the book to the very first page and starts to read.

"I've opened _Gypsy_ four times…"

Five words in and Kurt feels the plug spring to life, nothing too sensational, just a low buzz that vibrates through his body, tingling up his spine and spreading out over his limbs, even to the tips of his fingers. With enough concentration it's pretty easy to ignore. Kurt pauses, swallowing as he focuses on the words of his idol printed in typeface on the page in front of him and not the subtle hum of pleasure that starts to coil deep in his stomach. He takes another breath and begins to read.

That small stutter isn't lost to Sebastian. He normally switches on the vibrator before his volunteers start reading, to get them accustomed to the sensation, but he couldn't resist waiting a moment with Kurt. He needed to see the man's reaction. Sebastian has seen a dozen volunteers read. One or two of them had a definite effect on him, but all in all this is just a job, and he can easily suppress any reaction he may have to the men as he watches them break down on camera, falling to pieces as they cum. But Kurt…Sebastian has never met anyone like Kurt. Under any other circumstances, outside of this studio, Sebastian would ask Kurt out for a drink, maybe even to dinner. Sebastian, whose sex life survived on a diet of one-night stands, never dreamed he had a 'type'. Meeting Kurt, talking to him for just five minutes, and Sebastian now knew for sure that he definitely had one.

"Lambs are born in the spring. We performed in the summer. The lamb was, unfortunately, a sheep. The sheep was going crazy…"

Kurt appears a little too composed for Sebastian's taste. As unfair as it sounds even in his own head, he is far too eager to watch Kurt come undone. Sebastian switches the vibrator up a notch.

"I-I was af-fraid the sheep would fall…"

The change comes out of nowhere, and hits Kurt everywhere at once. Strange how the lowest setting was tolerable, but one step up is almost debilitating. Kurt stops and swallows again, his heart racing. The hand that holds the page he's reading shakes. He folds one leg carefully over the other as he tries to continue.

"…into the orchestra pit in his desperate attempt to escape…"

Kurt takes a deep, shuddering breath to steady himself, and Sebastian follows it, watching with wonder at how Kurt pulls himself up straighter, rolling his neck on his shoulders in a casual attempt at dismissing the waves that are now pulsing with vibrant energy, titillating every last nerve ending, but Sebastian knows. He can tell by the way Kurt's legs bounce a little beneath the table, the way he shifts the book restlessly from cradled in both hands to lying flat on the table, and then back in his hands, gripping tightly.

"…th-the frantic sheep w-was caught…mmm… before he crapped on everything…Hmm…Th-they put him in the boys' bathroom offstage right…" Kurt reads on, stopping every now and again to breathe, to hum, sighing to relieve the pressure. He tries not to be distracted, focusing on the page, trying not to let the words blur as images race into his head of the gorgeous man with the remote control climbing underneath the table, taking Kurt's aching cock into his mouth, and swiftly putting him out of his misery. Why did Sebastian have to be gorgeous? Why did he have to have that silky voice and those clear emerald eyes? He could probably handle being forced to cum like this in front of a hag in a pantsuit, or some middle-aged stooped-over man with a pocket protector and wire-rimmed glasses, but this…this is torture. This is a million-and-one secrets he wasn't ready to tell without even going out for coffee first. This is laying his soul bare in front of someone he could legitimately see himself fantasizing about. This is no chance at all of making a better first impression whatsoever.

Kurt wants to call it quits, but he just can't stop. His body won't let him. Everything feels too good, and he knows that if he stands up to leave it will be over anyway. He's so close to cumming that a single shiver, the tiniest breath, will do him in.

He blinks the words back into focus. They are his anchor, and he needs them to keep from meeting the gaze of the handsome director and losing it all completely.

Sebastian finds himself rocking in his chair, subconsciously following Kurt's movements as he fidgets with his own body – the way Kurt shifts in his chair, the way the fingers of one hand have started to thrum against the table top, crawling to the edge and back in an effort to keep Kurt distracted.

Sebastian is breathless, his entire body burning, imagining what it might be like to be locked between Kurt's thighs while he quivers and moans with Sebastian buried deep inside him, what it would look like when Kurt finally came.

Sebastian has to find out.

He switches the vibrator up again to medium-high.

"…the tiled bathroom would increase the volume and reverberate his _bah_-ah-ah-AH!"

The vibrator shifts up a gear and Kurt's whole body trembles. He cries out suddenly, unable to hold the sound in. It was waiting so long, lodged in his throat, begging to be let go. Kurt throws his head back on his shoulders and squeezes his eyes shut, willing his body to calm down, but he can't. There's no possible way. He looks back down at the book, trying to stop his hands from shaking long enough to find his place. He gives up, laying his arms over the book to keep it from closing and picks up reading anywhere.

"At…at…ah…at poignant moments in the play…"

Sebastian smiles, watching Kurt shiver, knowing that he's doing this to him. He's the one in control, and he decides to play dirty. He's never done this with any other subject, but Kurt's not any other subject.

Kurt is the subject he _wants_.

Sebastian dials down the vibrations for just a second, and then hits it to high.

Kurt feels the vibrations die a little and he relaxes, thankful for the reprieve, sure that Sebastian has enough for his video and that he'll call cut soon.

"…we would hear the plaintive _w_AIL!"

The pulsations are back again, stronger than before, and all thoughts of reading and _Gypsy_ and Ms. Patti LuPone are gone. The book shoots forward out of Kurt's grasp and he grabs onto the arms of the chair, shoving back with his legs. It's too much, it's just too much, but Kurt has to give in. How can he stop? He sinks down in his chair, pushing the vibrating plug as far in as it will go, trying to search out the spot that needs it most. He's grinding into the chair, heels scraping along the floor, moaning into the air around him. His hands ball into fists and then flex, fingers stretching out indecisively. Sebastian knows what Kurt is contemplating, hedging on a decision, and Sebastian prays he makes the right one.

Kurt isn't quite comfortable with the idea of unzipping his jeans and pulling out his cock, but he's aching where his length pushes against his fly, and in a moment of weakness he comes to a compromise and frantically starts palming himself over the fabric.

Sebastian can't help his moan, or the way he starts to shift in his own seat, trying to find friction enough to relieve the erection that has been growing since Kurt took that first stutter of breath on the very first page.

"Oh, God!" Kurt cries out. "Oh, God! Oh, God!"

Sebastian's hands are shaking now. He's dying to climb over the table and into Kurt's lap, to take what he dreams has to be an insanely perfect cock and stroke it, helping Kurt climax, but he can't. All he can do is toy with the little remote in his hands, so he does, switching it from low to high at odd intervals, watching with rapt fascination as Kurt bucks in his seat, sputtering a combination of nonsense syllables which include "Yes!", "Oh, God!", and "please".

But it's the addition of Sebastian's name that raises things to a whole other level.

"Sebastian!" Kurt cries out. "Sebastian, please!"

Please, what? Please, stop? Please, yes? Please let me cum? Please come over here and fuck me?

Sebastian is good with most of these.

Sebastian watches Kurt writhe and for a moment he is struck with a sharp pang of guilt.

This is a legitimate art project, and Kurt's a volunteer.

But, God, Sebastian wishes this could be so much more.

Sebastian decides to grant Kurt his wish, turning the vibrator on high and watching Kurt cum, lust-blown blue eyes wide, lips wrapped around a silent moan, face flushed in a way that looks like scarlet hand prints dragging down his cheeks. Kurt's hips stutter into the hand that's gripping white-knuckled at the front of his impossibly tight jeans, and Sebastian feels himself cum suddenly at this image of perfect completion.

Kurt's body starts to relax, and the euphoria that erased all of his inhibitions is quickly replaced with an overwhelming tidal wave of humiliation and shame. In essence, he just gave himself away, gave himself to Sebastian. How could he be so foolish! What was he even doing here? Fuck Rachel and her stupid ideas! Fuck the way he's always getting tricked into doing something low and degrading when he should just say no. But regardless, one thing still remains…that orgasm…that mind-wrenching, heart-stopping, body-shattering orgasm…was the most incredible thing he has ever experienced, and Sebastian gave him that.

At least he'll have that to daydream about when he moves to Nassau County and hides under a rock.

Kurt sits up, noticing how the vibrator has stopped, silently thankful. He straightens the table and turns back to the camera. He picks up his book again.

"My name is Kurt Hummel," he says in a voice that still shakes, "and that was a passage from _Patti LuPone: A Memoir_."

Sebastian calms his breathing, reaching out carefully to turn off the camera.

"And cut."

Sebastian leaves Kurt to remove the vibrator and clean up, needing the excuse to step outside for a breath of fresh air. Kurt cleans the vibrator thoroughly with soap and water, using the menial task to take his mind from recalling that intense moment of rapture, or the way he thought (or most likely imagined) that he heard Sebastian moan from somewhere off-camera.

Sebastian knocks lightly on the door before he enters, and Kurt is pacing the room again, this time eager to put this all behind him before he finds some other way to embarrass himself in front of Sebastian.

"So, I think that's all I need from you, Mr. Hummel," Sebastian says. Kurt is thrown off by his professional demeanor and his heart sinks a little.

No. Kurt didn't get to him at all.

"What should I…" Kurt looks down at his hands where he holds the vibrator, cleaned and packed into a plastic Ziploc bag.

"You can keep it," Sebastian says quickly. "You know, because we don't recycle them or anything."

"Of course." Kurt doesn't want this moment to be awkward which is strange because he can't bring himself to look at the man standing in front of him. Not in his eyes, at least. But his shoes are quite lovely.

"Well, if I need anything else from you, I have your name and number on the release form," Sebastian says.

Kurt sees this as his moment to be bold, so he grabs it.

"My address is on that release form, too. Maybe you can stop by sometime," Kurt says, looking down at the book and the vibrator in his hands, his face hotter and redder than a Carolina Reaper, "and I can read to you again."

Sebastian is silent, and Kurt has no idea what's going on in his head, but whatever happened in that studio…that moment has long passed.

Kurt nods.

"Okay," he says, shoving the bag with the vibrator deep into an inside pocket of his coat so no one will see it while he takes the long subway ride home. "Well, good luck with your project." Kurt never looks up into Sebastian's face, just walks around him and out the door, sprinting down the street to the subway the moment the door clicks shut behind him.

Rachel is conspicuously absent when Kurt returns, and Kurt is glad. He no more wants to talk to her right now that he wants to shove his hand in a car door, though the car door would sting a lot less than her pestering. Kurt vows then and there to learn how to say the word 'no' to Rachel Berry and her stupid ideas.

His planned evening of silent self-pity comes to a crashing halt when he hears a knock on the door. Figuring Rachel forgot her keys again, he has half a mind to let her just sit out in the hallway, until a distinctive masculine voice calls through the crack.

"Kurt? Are you here? Do I have the right apartment?"

Kurt freezes, and for a moment he's not sure if he should just pretend that he's not at home, but he's also way too curious to know what would bring Sebastian Smythe all the way from uptown to his door in Bushwick at nine o'clock at night.

"Coming," he calls. He vaults across the apartment, stopping short to adjust his shirt and fix his hair before throwing open the door.

Sebastian stands leaning against the door jamb in a much more formal version of the struggling artist look he sported at the studio that afternoon. He's smirking, but with a much more contrite look in his eye.

"Sebastian?" Kurt asks, trying not to sound too excited to see him. "What…"

"I'm an idiot," Sebastian interrupts, but in a soft, self-depreciating way that Kurt can forgive. "I'm an imbecile. I shouldn't have just let you leave. I should have asked you out for coffee or something."

"Is that what you do with all of your volunteers?" Kurt asks, tilting his head, still curious as to why Sebastian is there.

"No," Sebastian admits, and the smirk becomes wider. "I think you know that I don't."

Kurt _did_ know. He had a couple of eye-opening hours after he got home. He finally went online and checked out the rest of Sebastian's videos. He could hear the vibrator when it switched gears, never going higher than medium. He saw how the men reacted. He knew that what happened with him in the studio was different. What Sebastian did to Kurt he didn't do with his other volunteers. At first, Kurt was angry. He was going to pull permission to show his video. He even thought about suing. But once his knee jerk anger died down, Kurt found himself hoping that somehow he'd hear from Sebastian again.

And here he was.

"I was kind of hoping I could make it up to you," Sebastian says, shifting a little on his feet, and Kurt can see that Sebastian has a rather large book and a plastic blister package with a brand new vibrator in his hands. "Maybe this time, I could read to you."

Kurt rolls his lips over his teeth, biting down to stop from blushing.

"Well, in that case," Kurt says, throwing the door open wide, "why don't you come in?"


	41. A Second 'First Kiss' for Kurt Hummel

**A/N: **_This is a one-shot based of off a Klaine one-shot I read on tumblr. THAT one-shot was based off the project about twenty strangers sharing a first kiss. (You can look up the video on YouTube.) The Klaine one-shot is very sweet and love-at-first-sight, so I thought I would do the same thing for Kurt and Sebastian, but with a slightly different outcome. (P. S. I realize that technically it might be considered Kurt's THIRD first kiss, but I would like to think of it as the second one that he actually liked…)_

Kurt has become very creative with the methods he uses to get over the heartache of breaking up with Blaine. It didn't start intentionally; more as a way to keep from breaking down and, in a moment of weakness, taking him back. For example, every time he thought about Blaine, he went for a run in the park. If he had the overwhelming urge to call him, he took the train uptown to Bloomingdale's instead and tried on shoes he would never be able to afford. When he got a text from Blaine, he erased it without reading it and then headed to the Met to look through whatever new artist was on temporary exhibit.

This inspires him to take things a step further and start planning new activities to preempt any melancholy thoughts while broadening his horizons, and in the process, meeting new people. He has a list to rival his original bucket list, adding a new activity almost every day. Already he's learned to make sushi, taken a Segway tour of Manhattan, and gone to a weekend circus camp.

Some of his activity choices, however, have been more hit and miss.

Like, say, the one he's signed up for today.

Making a documentary.

Twenty strangers sharing a first kiss.

Kurt inhabits a small corner of the waiting room and people watches while he waits to be called. He pretends to read the latest issue of Vogue and covertly surveys the other players in this game, seeing if his gaydar pings strong for any particular person.

_'A backwards cap and, jeez, pull up your pants…nope'_

_'Ugh! He's looking down her dress! Rude!…No, actually he's looking at her shoes. Ping!'_

_'Nope…not in those bargain Dockers slacks…'_

_'Not with that haircut…'_

_'Pretty sure you're mistaking this for Project Runway in that outfit…pass…'_

_'Now wait a second…ping, ping, PING all over the place!'_

Emerald green eyes, an adorable ski slope nose, and a perfect smile, wearing a classic charcoal gray Brook's Brothers suit paired with a purple dress shirt.

_There's_ a man who has style…and gorgeous to boot.

_That's_ a man that Kurt would be okay kissing.

Kurt watches the group thin out as the minutes tick by, surreptitiously keeping his eyes glued to the man that he has quietly claimed as his first kiss.

There are a few heart stopping close calls when Project Runway guy gets paired with a man named Kevin, and bargain Dockers guy is called with someone else named Kurt…a woman, believe it or not.

Kurt loves his name, but he can't help but feel sorry for the poor girl.

Brook's Brothers suit goes out in the hall to take a phone call just as the next pair is called, and with one hetero couple seated in the waiting room chatting each other up, it's pretty obvious to Kurt that he and Brook's Brothers suit will end up together. Kurt's heart races as he sends up a silent prayer of thanks to the big spaghetti monster in the sky.

Perhaps this will end up on the list as the pinnacle of Blaine-abolishing activities.

Maybe it will even end up being the story Kurt and Brook's Brothers suit tell their grandchildren someday.

The lady with the clipboard who has been calling couples to the back steps out from behind the heavy door to the studio.

"Kurt Hummel and Sebastian Smythe?"

"Um…I'm Kurt," he says, raising his hand and standing. "I think Sebastian _(God that name sounds good rolling off his tongue) _went outside to make a call."

"Okay," she says with a slight frown of disapproval, "why don't you step inside and I'll go get him."

Kurt passes her on the way to the studio, and he can feel his heart in his throat now, trying to make a break for freedom. This is it. Another first kiss. He didn't realize how thrilling the prospect of kissing someone again was until just this moment, but now…

The door opens, and _Sebastian_ walks in, still talking on his cell phone. His eyes immediately land on Kurt and go wide. He stops speaking midsentence, his mouth forming a little 'o', and Kurt can't help the way his breathing stutters at the flattering response.

"Let me call you back in twenty," Sebastian says _(and that voice…God that smooth as silk voice…)_ to whomever on the phone, and pockets it quickly, looking Kurt over from head to toe.

Kurt smiles shyly as he approaches the agitated looking man.

"So, how do you want to…"

To Kurt's surprise, the man backs away, putting up a hand to deflect any more comments from Kurt.

"Uh, no," he says firmly, peering over Kurt's head to find the woman who ushered him in, "I told you guys on my form, I'm not into girls."

Kurt's jaw drops in shock, a burning flush surging to his cheeks.

"Fuck you!" Kurt spits.

"Not in a million years, princess," Sebastian drawls, a smug smile curling his lips.

"Okay," the lady with the clipboard says from behind the camera, "let's calm…"

"Just what I was thinking," Kurt growls, advancing on the slightly taller man.

"He thinks!" Sebastian crows, throwing his hands in the air in mock celebration. "And you see, I was wondering seeing as you paired that shirt with those jeans and thought it was a good idea to leave the house."

"Uh, guys…" clipboard lady approaches them carefully, not wanting to come between them in case this bitch-fest comes to blows, "maybe we can find a different…"

"Not that my outfit isn't _fabulous_," Kurt counters, "but at least I can change my clothes. Whatever are you going to do about your stupid little meerkat face?"

"If you want to talk about faces…" Sebastian continues, "maybe you should take a look at yours because I think you need to find a cover-up that's closer to your natural skin color. That is, unless you're _trying_ to join the legion of the undead."

"That's rich! Did you learn that on your way back from the perfume department after you stood there and screamed, 'Spray me with everything you've got!'"

Kurt and Sebastian inch closer, nearly nose to nose, and clipboard lady gives up, backing out of the line of fire.

"I'm pretty sure there's another couple of guys we can call who said…"

"No, you're right, princess," Sebastian says, inhaling deep just above Kurt's hair, "What you've got going on is a lot better. _Eau du coffee shop_. I have a feeling you have a nine cup a day habit, am I right? Non-fat because otherwise how are you going to squeeze yourself into those teen queen jeans you're wearing." Sebastian leans back a bit to take a long, lecherous look down Kurt's body, and Kurt, still burning with anger and humiliation, feels a new heat pool in his stomach from the way Sebastian's eyes rake down his body so shamelessly.

"Stop…calling…me…princess!" Kurt grinds out between painfully clenched teeth. "In fact, why don't you do the world a huge favor and stop talking at all."

Sebastian leans closer, until his breath is ghosting over Kurt's parted lip.

"Make me," he says quietly, his own voice rough and dangerous.

The silence that follows Sebastian's challenge is nearly a solid force filling the room, and trapped in the tension, the lady with the clipboard considers calling security.

Kurt holds his breath, deciding on his next jab, ready to move in for the kill.

"Fuck it," Sebastian whispers.

Confused, Kurt opens his mouth to speak, but Sebastian's there, wrapping an arm around Kurt's waist, pulling him close, lips claiming his, hungry…no, ravenous, knocking Kurt almost completely off his feet. He feels Sebastian's free hand crawl up his back, fingers threading into his hair, and Kurt dissolves. He comes to his senses and kisses Sebastian back, determined not to let this disarming man with the acerbic tongue get the upper hand, trying to ignore the way his body responds – how he seems to fit perfectly against him, how he immediately goes hard at the touch of his fingers massaging circles into his lower back, or the broken sound that escapes his mouth when Sebastian's tongue slides between his lips, as if he always had permission to kiss Kurt like this.

In fact, he _doesn't_, not after all the insults, and Kurt becomes furious!

How dare this asshole kiss him like this? How dare he be a douchebag ignoramus _and_ an awesome kisser, especially if he was going to treat Kurt like shit?

Kurt pulls back, breaking the kiss, ready to tear Sebastian a new one, but Sebastian pulls him in again, moving the hand on his waist lower to palm over his ass and press them closer together. Kurt feels Sebastian, his aching length press against him. Kurt's knees go weak, and Sebastian catches him, leaning him back to deepen the kiss.

"Okay, guys," a much more relaxed clipboard lady says from behind the camera. "That's…wow…that's…I think we have enough…"

Kurt doesn't care that they're being filmed. He doesn't care that clipboard lady basically called cut. What _does_ bother him is that he feels like he's losing some sort of unspoken competition, and Kurt Hummel doesn't lose…especially not to a bastard like Sebastian Smythe.

Kurt links a leg around Sebastian's and ruts slowly against him, and this time the moan he hears belongs to Sebastian.

"Fuuuccckkk…" Sebastian whispers into Kurt's mouth, his whole body trembling from the slide of Kurt's erection against his own. Sebastian breaks their kiss this time, setting Kurt on the floor and taking a step back. He looks less put together now, lips swollen and parted as he pants, face flushed, and a slight sheen of sweat just above his brow. Kurt preens a little with pride at this new, wrecked Sebastian he's created.

Sebastian grins, still cocky but not quite as smug.

"Well, princess, that was unexpected." He runs a finger downs Kurt's cheek, and in spite of himself, Kurt shivers. "Maybe we can do that again sometime."

Kurt huffs, but his heart is still racing at the taste of Sebastian's peppermint mocha still lingering in his mouth.

"Well," Kurt says, pulling his business card from his pocket and handing it over, "I suppose…seeing how I owe you."

Sebastian looks at the card in his hand, and his brow furrows in confusion.

"Owe me?" he asks.

"Yeah," Kurt says, "for this..."

Before Sebastian can ask again, Kurt rears back and slaps him across the face.

Sebastian's head snaps to the side with the force of the blow, his hands reflexively forming fists, and Kurt is sure he's about to get slapped back, but when Sebastian turns his face back to look at Kurt, the eyes that meet his are blown-wide and full of fire.

_Call me_, Kurt mouths with a wink and a slight gesture of his hand towards his ear. He turns on his heels and walks away, throwing one last look over his shoulder to see a thoroughly stunned looking lady drop her clipboard and Sebastian, cheek still flaming with an imprint of Kurt's hand, biting his lip, with a shit-eating grin on his face, inputting Kurt's number from the crumpled business card into his cell phone.


	42. Melancholy Baby

**A/N: **_Rachel, Kurt, and Blaine find a baby on the doorstep of the loft, and have no idea where it came from. Rachel and Blaine leave Kurt to deal with a screaming, unhappy baby, and an hour later Sebastian shows up looking to flirt with Blaine…or is he? Futurefic, fluff_

"What…what is it?" Rachel asks, looking down at the tiny carrier and it's even tinier sleeping occupant.

Kurt, standing beside her in the doorway of the loft, scoffs. He turns on her with wide-eyed incredulity.

"What _is_ it? It's a baby!"

"I know it's a baby," Rachel says, rolling her eyes. "What I meant is what is it doing here?"

"Um…I'm going to take a guess that someone left it here," Blaine adds.

Kurt shakes his head, having about enough of the both of them.

"Well, what should we do with it?" Kurt asks, looking between his roommate and his fiancé with desperation in his eyes.

"Well, I have _Funny Girl_ rehearsals in a half an hour, so I don't think I'm going to be able to help you with this one." Rachel tosses her coat on and steps gingerly past the car seat, trying not to disturb the infant. "Let me know how this all turns out," she calls back in a stage whisper before sprinting for the stairs.

Kurt turns to Blaine, hoping that the man who claims to love kids, who almost didn't audition for NYADA using the excuse that he wanted to become a teacher instead of admitting that he was scared to death of not being good enough, will be of more help.

Blaine gazes back at Kurt with whiskey-colored eyes full of panic.

"I don't know what to do, Kurt. Maybe you should call the cops. Or go door to door and see if his parents are somewhere in the building."

"Wait, wait, wait…" Kurt closes his eyes and shakes his head as he absorbs Blaine's suggestions. "Why are you talking like I'm doing this alone?"

Blaine sighs, his shoulders dropping.

"I have class, baby," Blaine says simply, glancing down at the baby one last time before reaching for his bag. "And then I have to run through that solo with Cassie."

"Your class is intro to theater!" Kurt cries. "I think you can miss one class! And Cassie told you to stop by 'if you can'. I'm sure you can reschedule. You know that solo backwards and forwards."

"Kurt…"

"Please, Blaine!" Kurt begs. "I'm an only child. I don't know anything about babies, or taking care of babies..."

"Well, I've never had to take care of a baby before, either," Blaine counters.

"But at least you LIKE children!"

"Kurt," Blaine says, kissing him on the cheek, "it's one baby for a couple of hours max. And it's asleep. I don't think it's going to be too much trouble."

"But…but…" Kurt sputters as Blaine walks out the door.

"I love you," Blaine calls back in hushed tones, blowing Kurt a parting kiss. "Good luck."

And then Blaine is gone, barreling down the steps as if the devil himself were kicking at his heels.

Kurt is alone.

With a baby.

A neighbor from down the hall peeks out of his apartment and Kurt waves. As an afterthought, he calls out, "Hey! Did you lose a baby?" He gestures to the car seat at his feet.

His neighbor, an elderly man with a glass eye, looks Kurt over with a grimace a la old school Popeye, and then retreats back into his home, slamming the door behind him.

The baby startles, dark brown eyes snapping open…and begins to wail.

Kurt sinks down to the floor in front of the carrier, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees, dropping his head into his hands.

"I know how you feel, kid," he says as the baby continues to bawl. "I know how you feel."

* * *

Kurt's curious to know if it's possible for the brain to melt from exposure to loud, high-pitched noises since the baby (a boy, if his absent parents' truck spattered choice of couture can be trusted) hasn't given his voice a rest for over an hour. He's nearly at the end of his rope. He tried calling the police, but since the baby wouldn't stop crying, the dispatcher on the line couldn't hear him, and he gave up. He tried swaying and rocking and bouncing. He sang, threatened (nothing serious – just the ambiguous taking away of sweets and t.v. privileges which couldn't possibly matter to an infant anyway), bargained, and finally reaches acceptance, the last stage of the twelve step program of realizing all hope is gone. He stands in the kitchen with the baby in his arms on the verge of tears while the mini human bawls.

Even the persistent knock on the door doesn't phase Kurt. He barely hears it.

"Hello?" an unwelcome voice calls through the slight crack in the sliding door. "Blaine?"

"Go away," Kurt moans, knowing that the likelihood of Sebastian Smythe doing anything he asks is next to nil.

"Oh hello, Kurt," Sebastian says, walking through the door as if he had been invited. "Are you practicing again, or are you torturing a small, helpless animal?"

Sebastian's teasing eyes fall on a bedraggled Kurt, leaning against the kitchen counter, red-rimmed eyes close to tears. He stops short.

"So, whose spawn is that?" he says, approaching Kurt with an amused smirk on his face. "Is it yours? Because I saw you just last week and you weren't showing at all, although…" Sebastian looks down the length of Kurt's body. "…those skinny jeans are looking a little tighter than normal."

"You know, Sebastian," Kurt sniffs, pushing past him and heading toward the door, hoping the intrusive man would follow and take the hint. "I don't have the time or the patience for you right now, so save whatever bullshit excuse you came up with to drop by and hit on Blaine and get the hell out. I've got more important shit than you to deal with today."

Sebastian's smirk wavers as he takes in the image of Kurt, worn down, nerves frayed, shifting a red-faced infant from hip to hip, cooing in a way that tries to sound soothing but doesn't quite make it.

Sebastian sighs.

"Look…um…let me…"

He walks over to Kurt and relieves him of the infant, holding the little boy securely in his arms.

"Don't!" Kurt exclaims in a halfhearted effort to take the baby back. "I don't want him to catch your asshole. He's just a baby. He still has a chance."

Kurt watches in confusion as Sebastian looks the baby over, patting his behind lightly, giving him a sniff, and for some odd reason, sticking the bent knuckle of his index finger in the baby's mouth.

"What in hell are you doing?" Kurt asks. "If this is some kind of Satanic ritual…"

"Shut it, princess," Sebastian hisses through his teeth, smiling at the infant. "Your little man here is hungry and he needs a change. Do you have any…"

Kurt's look of disbelief makes Sebastian chuckle.

"Diaper bag?" Sebastian clarifies.

"Uh…yeah." Kurt turns back to the kitchen where the baby's carrier sits on the kitchen table beside a blue bag that was originally obscured by the carrier's canopy when they found the infant on their doorstep. "He came with this."

Kurt grabs the bag off the table and walks over to Sebastian, who is in the process of laying the baby down on the couch.

"What do you mean?" Sebastian asks, making funny faces while he talks. "He isn't a relative of yours?"

"Nope." Kurt watches Sebastian take off the baby's clothes, cringing with guilt when he sees the soaked onesie and saturated diaper. "We found him at the front door this morning. We don't know who he belongs to."

Sebastian wraps up the soiled diaper and holds it out to Kurt, who puts up his hands and takes a step back.

"Whoa…what do you want me to do with that?"

"Uh, throw it out?" Sebastian says, tossing it at Kurt who catches it on reflex, gagging at the overwhelming urine smell.

"Oh God," he chokes, holding it between pinched fingers and racing it to the kitchen. He throws it into the trash can and follows it with a generous dose of Lysol spray.

"Jesus H, princess," Sebastian groans, securing the fresh diaper's Velcro closures, then rooting through the bag for a new outfit to replace the ruined one. "It's just a baby, not a nuclear reactor."

"Same thing to me," Kurt grumbles, but he feels the tension in his shoulders disappear now that the loft is quiet for the first time in an hour.

"So, why did you volunteer to stay home alone with this guy if you hate kids?" Sebastian asks, shooting Kurt a sidelong glance as he fits a small arm through the sleeve of a Winnie the Pooh t-shirt.

Kurt's eyes fall to his shoes.

"I didn't," he murmurs, "they just…they just left."

"What do you mean they just left?" Sebastian's voice sounds unexpectedly irritated, and even though their abandonment in his time of need burns him, Kurt feels the need to defend his friends.

"Well, Rachel has _Funny Girl_ rehearsals. It's a big show…a big opportunity for her."

_There. That sounds convincing._

"And Dapper Dan?"

The tone of Sebastian's voice changes from aggravated to accusatory.

"He had a class. And dance rehearsal," Kurt says simply.

_A class he could have totally ditched and a rehearsal he could have rescheduled_, Kurt thinks, but he doesn't say it out loud.

From the look on Sebastian's face, he doesn't have to.

"He's a dedicated student," Kurt adds. "He's up for a couple of big roles in the drama department. That's rare for a freshman."

"Yeah, well…" Sebastian moves on to putting on the baby's pants, "… maybe today he should have played the role of dedicated fiancé."

"You don't understand," Kurt says, hoping that will be the end of the discussion.

"Maybe I don't." Sebastian shrugs. "Maybe I don't get the ins and outs of this drama that is your guys' lives." Sebastian unpacks the baby bottle and formula, and Kurt is amazed by how comfortable he seems with all this stuff that looks so alien to Kurt. "What I do know is that when I got here you were alone with a crying baby in your arms, on the verge of tears, with no fiancé to be found, and it seems like you're trying a little too hard to convince me that he did nothing wrong."

Both Kurt and the baby watch as Sebastian prepares a bottle of formula, measuring out the powder and pouring the in water while blocking the baby from rolling off the couch with his body.

"How did you learn to do…that?" Kurt asks, half out of curiosity and half out of a need to change the subject. Sebastian's not wrong. Ever since Blaine moved in, Kurt has begun to realize how much he doesn't adapt well to change or to new situations…or in some ways, to growing up. He's a disaster at laundry, he doesn't seem to know what a coupon is, and little things like the electric bill will often go unnoticed if Kurt doesn't remind him at least twelve times before it needs to be paid. Most of the time Kurt simply breaks down and does it all himself, but he shouldn't have to.

Sebastian hit the nail on the head.

Life in the loft _is_ a drama, with Blaine and Rachel as the stars, and Kurt…well, he's just part of the supporting cast.

Sebastian picks up the baby, who's already reaching out chubby grabby hands for the bottle. He sits on the couch and feeds the now quiet infant, watching with a smile as he starts to drift off to sleep.

"My brother's kids," he says. "He visits with his family every Christmas, and I always end up with the kids." Kurt wants to make a joke, but Sebastian is opening up to him, something he's never done before, so Kurt just nods.

He never knew that Sebastian had a brother…a brother with kids, no less.

Then again, this may be the longest real conversation Kurt's ever had with Sebastian without having the overwhelming urge to claw his eyes out.

Kurt sits beside Sebastian in amazement as the baby falls to sleep.

"So, how are you guys going to handle having kids," Sebastian whispers, "if one little baby brings you to tears?"

"Well, we're not having kids tomorrow," Kurt whispers. "By the time we want them, maybe I'll be better at this. Or maybe we'll just adopt older kids."

"Ooo, my sister did that…adopted a five- and a six-year-old," Sebastian reveals. "But she fostered for a long time and that can be a crap shoot. Some of those kids are pretty messed up. How old were you thinking?"

"I don't know," Kurt says. "How old do they start taking care of themselves?"

Sebastian laughs, the sound warm and genuine, and Kurt realizes that he's never noticed how vibrant a shade of green Sebastian's eyes are, or how the skin at the corners crinkles slightly when he laughs, or how Sebastian's voice, when he isn't cutting Kurt down, can be soft and soothing.

Before he knows it, he's staring.

Sebastian catches him, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"I'm sorry," Kurt says, turning to look down at the baby in Sebastian's arms, hiding the pink in his cheeks. "I think this little guy tired me out."

"Do you want to put your head down?" Sebastian offers. "Get a few z's?"

The offer is so selfless, so…nice, that Kurt doesn't know how to answer.

A knock at the door saves him. Kurt stands and steals once last look at Sebastian with the sleeping baby in his arms. He looks so normal, so sweet, so not like the Sebastian that Kurt has grown to despise venomously on a daily basis. Kurt never imagined there could be a hidden human side to Sebastian Smythe, and it makes him wonder.

Sebastian could have just been a dick and left, could have cracked a few more jokes and then split to hunt down Blaine, knowing Kurt had his hands full. But he stayed. He stayed to help _Kurt_.

He stayed to help Kurt when his best friend and his fiancé split on him.

A second knock and Kurt realizes he's staring again. He hurries to the door and opens it, coming face to face with a familiar looking young woman in tears.

"Oh my God!" she manages between sobs, "please tell me…"

The woman is trying to peek past Kurt on tiptoes to look into the apartment and sees Sebastian on the couch, cradling the sleeping baby in his arms. She puts both hands to her face and cries harder.

"Thank God!" she whispers. "Thank God he's here!"

Kurt moves aside in time for the woman to race by him without knocking him completely over and trampling him in an effort to get to her baby.

"Oh, Simon! Thank God you're alright!"

She holds her hands out to Sebastian who is already standing and placing the infant delicately in her arms.

"Excuse me," Kurt says, sounding a little more demanding than he should, but after over an hour of free babysitting he's curious to know… "can you tell me how your son ended up on my doorstep?"

"I live in the building," she explains, holding the sleeping baby so tight Kurt's afraid for a moment that she might smother him by accident. "My mom was watching him, but she has dementia, and if she forgets her medication, sometimes she wanders off. I guess she dropped him off at your door before she left the building."

"Uh…you might want to consider a more reliable babysitter," Sebastian says to Kurt's surprise. He was half-expecting him to cut the poor woman down for being irresponsible.

"I am," she says. "It's never been this bad before. But I promise, it's the last time."

Sebastian smiles, walking over to Kurt and putting a hand on his shoulder, and it feels natural…normal, like they could be acquaintances, or friends. Because strange, huge Atlas moths always flutter violently in your stomach when someone you hate who could turn into a friend puts a hand on your shoulder.

"Thank you," the woman says, tears still brimming in her eyes, "you and your boyfriend, for watching my son."

Kurt waits a moment before objecting, sure that Sebastian is about to set her straight.

"You're welcome, miss," is all he says.

The woman shoulders the small diaper bag and crosses the room to the kitchen to fetch the carrier.

"Let me help you with that," Sebastian offers, grabbing the baby carrier before she can reach it. "You said you live in the building?"

"Yeah, but you've done so much already. I couldn't ask you to…"

"You didn't," Sebastian says smoothly. "I offered. Come on."

Kurt watches them leave, wondering when did Sebastian become so charming, so polite. How was all this hiding behind his CW hair and his meerkat face and Kurt never saw it?

Who was this man, and why did this new side of Sebastian seem to work its way under Kurt's skin?

Sebastian turns over his shoulder before he closes the door.

"I'll be right back, babe," he calls with a wink, but it doesn't sound like a mock or a taunt.

Kurt feels dizzy. All of a sudden, the world makes no sense.

This has to be a trick, and Kurt, in his weakened and frazzled state, is falling for it hook, line, and sinker.

The loft door opens not a second later and Blaine bustles in, pulling off his coat and smiling from ear to ear.

"Hello, Kurt," he says brightly, rubbing his hands together as if he has the greatest news in the world. "Guess what?"

"What?" Kurt asks, but he's not really listening. He's still looking at the door waiting to see if Sebastian is actually going to return.

"I got it," Blaine says, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Kurt turns to him, brow furrowed, head shaking slowly.

"Got it?" he repeats.

"The role, Kurt. The one that I wanted."

Blaine looks up into Kurt's eyes, trying to trigger the memory of talking about it the night before.

"Robert?" Blaine prompts. "In _Company_?"

"Oh…_oh_, that's great, Blaine! Congratulations."

The loft door slides open and Kurt turns just as Blaine leans in for a kiss, his lips missing their intended target and catching Kurt on the cheek.

"So, Lydia and Simon are safe and sound upstairs," Sebastian announces, not noticing Blaine right away as he heads straight for Kurt. The minute he catches sight of Blaine clinging to Kurt's arm, staring up at his fiancé like a punch-drunk puppy, Sebastian nearly skids to a halt, his smile dropping, and then twisting into a smirk that Kurt notices looks more like a mask than the real McCoy.

"Hello, tiger," he says, "I didn't see you there hiding under Kurt's skirts."

Sebastian is back. Sebastian the lech. Sebastian the bastard.

And Kurt's heart twists in his chest.

"Hey, Seb," Blaine says. "I didn't know you were here."

"Actually," Kurt says, turning a bit and pulling Blaine into view, "he dropped by to see you, didn't he?"

Kurt turns to Sebastian, he voice tight, almost bitter. Sebastian looks at Kurt, eyes shifting to Blaine, and then back to Kurt.

"Um…you know…it can wait."

Sebastian's eyes are full of an emotion Kurt can't place as he backs away toward the door. "I think I'd better get going."

"Let me walk you to the door." Kurt presses a small kiss to Blaine's forehead and notices sebastian's smile dip just a bit more.

Blaine heads for the kitchen while Kurt follows Sebastian to the door.

"What's up, Hummel?" Sebastian asks. "Hoping for a kiss before I go?"

"I just wanted to say thanks…for helping me."

Sebastian's eyes soften again, that genuine smile making a brief appearance.

"You know, don't read into it or anything," Kurt continues, "but it was kind of nice hanging out with you."

Sebastian nods.

"Maybe we can do it again sometime," Sebastian says, talking mostly to his shoes, "you know, without the baby."

"Wait, so is this you saying you want to be friends, because I don't know how that's going to work with you obsessively trying to get into my fiancé's pants."

Sebastian chuckles, his cheeks turning a shade darker. He lifts his eyes to peer at Kurt through a fan of brown lashes. Sebastian leans in, whispering into Kurt's ear to make certain Blaine can't overhear, "Just between you and me, babe…lately it's not _his_ pants I'm trying to get into."

Kurt's mouth drops just as a pair of hands creep up Kurt's back and onto his shoulders.

"So, Sebastian, do you want to come back later for dinner?" Blaine asks, a strange expression on his face as he looks between his fiancé and his sometime friend standing in the doorway, "as a thank you for helping Kurt. We're making curry and then we're going sing Showtunes."

Kurt, facing away enough from Blaine to roll his eyes without being caught, does, but Sebastian catches it and laughs.

"Wow," Sebastian says, "curry _and_ Showtunes? Now I know I have to get out of here."

Kurt nods in understanding, with a look that screams, _'It's too late for me. Run now while you still can.'_

"Well, maybe next time then," Blaine says, and Kurt doesn't miss the way Blaine's hands tighten on his shoulders possessively.

"Yeah. Next time." Sebastian waves, just a slight movement of his hands as he looks from Kurt to Blaine, then turns and walks away.

Blaine squeezes Kurt's shoulder again before turning back into the apartment.

Kurt slides the door shut, thinking of the last few times Sebastian has stopped by the loft unannounced – a few times when Blaine was at school, once when Blaine went back to Westerville to visit his folks, a few times in the morning catching Kurt before he left for his own classes at NYADA. Come to think of it, Kurt couldn't remember the last time Sebastian had done anything other than stop by to harass him. His mind struggles to recall the last time Blaine mentioned seeing Sebastian.

Kurt feels the door stop, and he prepares to yank it the last foot or so.

A pair of soft lips capture his and his eyelids flutter shut, his entire body lit from the inside for just a second in response to the tongue that licks the seam of his mouth.

Kurt doesn't think he has a single breath left in his body when those lips disappear.

When he opens his eyes and looks around, the hallway is empty, silent except for the sound of heavy footsteps racing down the staircase, but soon they're gone, too.

Kurt lingers a little longer at the door wondering what will happen the next time he sees Sebastian Smythe.


	43. Join Me for Dinner

**A/N:** **PLEASE READ THESE WARNINGS CAREFULLY! **_This fic is not gory or disgusting in anyway, but it's for the anon prompt 'cannibal'. The cannibalism is only mentioned in passing and at the very end, so if you just want to read some smutty flirting and food porn, read it up until Sebastian makes his phone call. Please do not read this through to the end and then get upset at me because it's about cannibalism. I already told you. :/_

Kurt watches Sebastian light the candles on the table and smiles, waiting for his host to sit before digging in to the mouthwatering meal spread out before him.

"You know," Kurt says, fiddling with the edge of the scalloped tablecloth, "I'm glad you wore me down. These past two weeks have been amazing."

Sebastian smirks, flicking the lid to the silver Zippo in his hand shut and shoving the lighter into his pocket.

"I'm just glad that after all this time you were finally willing to give me a chance." Sebastian takes his seat across from Kurt and meets his gaze through the row of lined white tapers.

"I'm never going to believe for a second that you spent all that time at Dalton flirting with Blaine just to get my attention," Kurt teases, his eyes darting down momentarily to the sumptuous dish of food waiting for him to take the first bite.

"I was, whether you believe it or not," Sebastian admits with a shrug, pulling up his napkin and motioning for Kurt to do the same.

"Well, you're full of surprises," Kurt comments, rolling out his silverware and licking his lips, unaware of how carefully Sebastian watches him. "I would have never pictured you becoming a French chef."

Sebastian grabs the bottle of wine from the center of the table and opens it, standing again to present it to Kurt.

"A Rare Red Four Grape Blend for your approval, monsieur," he says as he pours Kurt a generous glass.

"Why, thank you, monsieur," Kurt answers back, lifting the full glass in a toast. "Votre santé."

"Votre santé," Sebastian returns, raising his own glass in a toast. Kurt sticks his nose in the glass and sniffs, letting the aromas of chocolate and black fruit fill his senses before taking a sip, letting the alcohol slowly fill his mouth, wash over his tongue, and tingle down his throat.

"That's smooth," Kurt says with a sigh. "Sweet, but peppery."

"You have an amazing palate." Sebastian sits back in his seat, his eyes glued to Kurt's mouth as he takes another sip. "You should come with me to California. If you're a good boy, maybe we can visit the Scotto Cellar where this hails from."

Kurt blushes, biting his lip as he looks back down at his plate.

"You know, _Culinary Trends_ magazine calls you the 'Prince of Presentation'," Kurt says, swiftly changing the subject, "and they're not wrong. This looks absolutely gorgeous. How am I going to eat it? I mean, how did you even come up with this design? It's exquisite."

Kurt can't keep his eyes off the symmetrically sliced meat, perfectly blackened and drizzled with a thick, savory smelling brown sauce. It's a relatively simple meal, but it's the intricate details that put the overall appeal over the top.

"Well, the pearls around the edge are completely edible," Sebastian points out with the tip of his steak knife, "and I chose them because they remind me of your beautiful, smooth, flawless skin."

Sebastian lifts one onto the edge of his knife and offers it to Kurt. Kurt blinks down at it and swallows hard. His eyes dart back up to meet Sebastian's dark, hooded gaze, and Sebastian can see a flicker of fear.

"Go ahead," Sebastian purrs. "Trust me. Walk on the wild side."

Kurt smiles, a grin that twists from scared to sultry with just a blink, and Kurt slips the knife between his teeth, letting the pearl drop off the sharp tip into his mouth. Sebastian moans when Kurt bites into it with a loud crunch, watching Kurt's mouth move as he devours it greedily.

"Excellent," Sebastian whispers. "Now, the silver beads are also edible, and they remind me of your stunning eyes." Sebastian collects a silver bead onto his knife the same way, and this time Kurt sucks it off without a second thought, time closing his lips gently around it, the color of Sebastian's eyes deepening immediately as he watches.

"And the orchids…" Sebastian reaches across the table and plucks one of the vibrant white and purple flowers off the meat, whispering in a voice that is dangerous and rough, full of restrained lust, "represent the parts of you…the soft, intimate parts of you that I am dying to taste…"

He leans across the table and drags the petals of the flower across Kurt's lips, and this time Kurt moans, letting his eyelids flutter shut and chasing the flower with a sweep of his tongue. Sebastian grins wickedly when he sees Kurt shift in his seat, crossing his legs beneath the table.

"S-so…this whole meal…is about me?" Kurt stutters, opening his eyes again to find Sebastian still staring at him with that same hungry, unabashed stare.

"You and only you," Sebastian says, gesturing to the plate with a flourish of his hand. "The cut of meat, the sauce, the decor…it's all about you. No one…and I mean no one else will ever eat this meal."

Kurt would have laughed if not for the sinister look in Sebastian's eyes that told Kurt every word he spoke was the truth.

"Please," Sebastian pleads, "take a bite. Let me watch you enjoy."

Kurt lifts his knife and fork in almost trembling hands as he cuts through the meat. It's tender, pulling apart, melting like butter beneath the metal of his knife. He skewers the small portion and runs it through the sauce once, taking his time, drawing out the seduction, all too aware of Sebastian's eyes on him, his hands gripping onto the edge of the table as he waits, watching Kurt lift the fork to his lips to take the first bite.

The meat slips between his lips, onto his tongue. The combination of sweet and savory tingle his taste buds, and Kurt whimpers.

Sebastian watches Kurt chew; watches how the beautiful, long column of his throat works as he swallows; how Kurt's eyes darken with the effects of the Burgundy in the sauce.

"Oh, Sebastian," Kurt sighs, breathless, "that's…that's like a kiss…or…it's just…"

"Excellent," Sebastian whispers again, lifting his knife and fork to take his own bite.

"Thank you, Sebastian," Kurt says, breathless after the amazing meal. "That was incredible."

"I'm glad you appreciate my creations so much." Sebastian takes Kurt's hand and walks him to the door. "It's nice to have someone to cook for."

"You cook for thousands of people," Kurt says with a laugh.

"True," Sebastian agrees, "but I only _create_ for you."

Sebastian take Kurt's hand in his, lifting it to his mouth, and presses his lips to the soft skin. Kurt's eyelids narrow, his cheeks pinking furiously. He wants so much more than Sebastian's lips brushing against just the back of his hand. Sebastian straightens, and Kurt surprises him, stepping forward and kissing him, capturing his lips gently, sliding their mouths together. Sebastian wraps his arms around him, holding him close, breathing him in and slipping his tongue into his mouth, taking a lazy moment to taste him.

"You know," Kurt says, talking quietly against Sebastian's mouth, "I would love to join you in California…if the offer stands."

Sebastian smiles so Kurt can feel it against his skin.

"You know it does," he says, kissing Kurt again, kissing him more, talking between presses of his lips and searching sweeps of his tongue. "It will be amazing, I promise. We'll drink wine, and I'll cook for you every night."

"Mmmm, I can't wait."

Kurt kisses him again – one last, longing kiss to say good-night on; a kiss to remember him by.

Sebastian hums when Kurt finally finds the strength to pull away and say his last good-bye.

"What is it?" Kurt asks, watching Sebastian lick his lips.

Sebastian leans into Kurt's ear, nibbling his earlobe gently and sighs, "You taste delicious."

Kurt bites his lip and backs away, taking one last look at his gorgeous boyfriend, holding his hands as long as he can, fingertips sliding out of reach.

"Good-night," Kurt says again.

Sebastian watches Kurt get into his Navigator, start his car, and drive away.

The words sink in.

Kurt is going with him to California.

This is it. This will definitely be the trip that seals the deal, and Sebastian can't wait.

He sees a future for him and Kurt – traveling around the world, visiting exciting locales, sampling wines, making love under the stars.

He wants desperately to make Kurt see it, too.

This trip to the West Coast is the first step, and it needs to be special; needs to be perfect.

Sebastian drops down on his couch and takes out his iPhone, dialing his number one supplier.

"Hey, Sebastian!" Chandler's voice sings over the line, the name sounding long winded and whiny in Chandler's nasally voice, ending with an unnecessary pop on the final 'n'. "How was dinner with _your man_?"

Sebastian relishes the sting of jealousy in Chandler's voice. So many times Chandler thought that Sebastian would fall in love with him, but he was just a stepping stone in helping him get Kurt.

"Our little friend Azimio turned out a lot better than I had hoped," Sebastian says.

"Thank God!" Chandler groans dramatically. "I was afraid he was going to turn out a little tough."

"Nope, not at all. Not after I cooked his ass for twelve fucking hours. And Chandler…the wine…" Sebastian shakes his head and chuckles. "How in the hell did you manage to find the perfect vintage to compliment 'aging athlete'?"

Chandler makes a high-pitched whining sound and Sebastian knows the compliments are working.

"It's just a talent, I guess."

"Well, it's a good one," Sebastian says condescendingly.

"An indispensable one, I hope," Chandler hedges, his voice suddenly meek and small. Sebastian rolls his eyes, knowing what Chandler's hinting at.

"I'd never eat _you_, Chandler," Sebastian says with a note of exasperation. "I need you too much. Besides, there's nothing on that ass of yours to eat anyway."

Chandler chuckles in a way that disgusts even Sebastian.

"Are you ever going to tell him?" Chandler asks.

"Nope," Sebastian says quickly. "And neither will you, or bony ass or no you'll end up a fucking side dish. Do you understand?"

"Of course, Sebastian," Chandler sputters nervously. "Don't be silly. I was just curious."

"Good." Sebastian hovers close to the phone as if Chandler is actually there to witness the gravity of Sebastian's revelation on his face. "Okay, now I want you to listen carefully, Chandler, because this is important. I have an extra special trip coming up. I'm taking Kurt to California with me."

"Ooo la la!" Chandler chirps.

"Ooo la la, indeed," Sebastian says. "So, I need bigger this time."

"Bigger?" Chandler asks, sounding thoroughly perplexed. "You've already served him Dave and Azimio. They were, like, the biggest bullies at McKinley. Who else are you going to find bigger than those two? Especially out in California?"

"Think about it, Chandler." Sebastian stands from the couch and paces anxiously. "I need to make a statement without saying a word…I need you to get me…_Blaine Anderson_."


	44. A Mile in His Shoes

**A/N: **_For the anon prompt 'bodyswap'. Sebastian buys a special potion that will allow him to switch bodies with Kurt for 12 hours so he can finally have sex with Blaine, but when Blaine's not available, Sebastian finds Kurt's diary and begins to realize that just maybe he's had his sights set on the wrong guy all a long._

The second he starts to wake up Sebastian knows it worked. He doesn't even have to open his eyes to prove that he is no longer lying beneath the satin sheets of his California-King size bed in his penthouse uptown. Everything – the air around him, the mattress underneath him, the skin covering him - just _feels_ different. He takes a moment to run borrowed hands down this stolen body. This chest is narrower, the waist trimmer, the muscles in of the arms and legs leaner. He wraps fingers around an already half-hard cock…whoa…much more impressive than he would have thought.

Who knew that a wacky voodoo potion from some drugged out hippie would actually work?

Sebastian blinks open foreign eyes and looks straight up at the industrial cement ceiling. He raises heavy arms and sees two pale hands with long fingers and perfectly manicured nails.

Oh, yes. It definitely worked. For the next 12 hours Sebastian Smythe is trapped in the body of Kurt Hummel.

That means, if his calculations are right, Kurt is nearly comatose in Sebastian's drugged out body, lying in Sebastian's bed. Damn fucking shit, they are both going to have one hell of a headache this evening, but Sebastian can care less about Hummel and as for himself…that doesn't matter right now. It will all be worth it when he gets his hands (and his mouth, and his ass, and everything else he can conceivably think of) on the body of Blaine Anderson.

Realization dawns on Sebastian and he runs Kurt's hands over his body again, noticing how his fingers don't touch fabric or slip beneath the waistband of any pants or underwear, which means…

_'Kurt Hummel, you sly dog,'_ Sebastian thinks, enjoying the feel of this different body and Kurt's incredibly soft skin. _'You sleep naked.'_

Which means…Blaine should be lying beside him, also completely naked, ready for his fiancé to have awesome morning sex with him.

Sebastian rolls over, slightly unprepared for minor differences in their heights and weights to be a problem in managing this seemingly simple maneuver, but he makes it onto Kurt's side and finds himself facing an empty rest of the bed.

"Fuck!" Sebastian hisses, startling at the high-pitched voice that echoes through the small space. Sebastian smiles. "Fuck!…Shit!…Fuck fuck fucking ass motherfucker!"

Sebastian laughs, way too amused at the sound of Kurt's prim voice cursing like a sailor. He quiets down and looks around, listening for sounds of life anywhere else in the apartment, but he's alone.

It's Saturday morning. He figured Blaine would be there, if not hanging out in bed with Kurt having some kind of deep, meaningful, Sarah McLachlan love song sort of sex, then making pancakes and singing Showtunes while birds and other forest creatures help him wash the dishes. Sebastian looks around the curtained-in space that passes as Blaine and Kurt's bedroom, judgmentally assessing the second-hand shabby chic furniture mixed with other eclectic pieces and little touches that he can only assume are part of Kurt's design plan and not Blaine's. Sebastian doesn't want to admit it but he doesn't exactly hate what Kurt's done with the place.

Okay, so Kurt Hummel has a good eye for interior design. There. He admits it. Good deed for the day done. Now on to his plan…getting Blaine into bed.

Sebastian spots Kurt's iPhone on the dresser, the message alert light flashing. He stands unsteadily on Kurt's feet, leaning against the bed until he's sure he isn't going to take one step and then face plant into the hardwood floor. He makes his way around the end of the bed, passing a vintage looking full-length mirror and stops. Sebastian had never tried to imagine Kurt naked before, assuming he was pretty much androgynous, possibly with no visible genitalia whatsoever. So the reflection of the muscular body he's staring at, hairless except for his legs, pale without a single blemish or scar, stuns him.

Sebastian turns Kurt's body from side to side, watching the muscles shift beneath the skin, the way every inch of him seems so perfectly proportioned. If Sebastian was ever going to describe a human being as 'sculpted', Kurt, unfortunately, would be that person.

Sebastian sighs. Maybe he's going after the wrong guy.

It only takes the memory of Kurt calling him a meerkat to break him from his stupor and send him back on his merry way towards the phone.

Sebastian picks it up, almost fumbling it a few times as he gets used to Kurt's fingers and the way they move. Sebastian figures he better practice grabbing things if he's going to properly take care of Blaine. Sebastian unlocks the screen and checks the first unread message.

_From: Blaine_

_Walked Rachel to the farmer's market. See you later. I love you._

Sebastian grimaces as he reads the message again. Geez, Blaine has to be pretty neutered if he'd leave his sexy boyfriend naked in bed to walk with young Barbra Streisand to the farmer's market.

Yeah, he called Kurt 'sexy'. He would deal with the consequences of that one late.

Sebastian smiles, dialing Blaine's number. He will simply have to lure Blaine back to the loft with the promise of a blowjob or something.

Blaine answers on the first ring, and Sebastian grins.

_That's definitely promising._

"Hey, Kurt," the smooth voice on the line greets him.

"Hey handsome," Sebastian replies, trying to make Kurt's voice sound rough and sexy, and damn if it doesn't work a little too well because Sebastian can feel himself getting hard at the sound of Kurt's seductive voice. "I miss you. Why don't you come back and I'll show you just how much?"

Blaine sighs, the silence dragging on much longer than Sebastian thinks necessary.

"Kurt," Blaine says, the single word sounding annoyed instead of insanely turned on, "we talked about this. You know I have an audition on Friday, and I am observing the 'Audition Tradition'…no fooling around for the week before so I don't risk getting sick."

_'What?'_ Sebastian thinks. _'That sounds insane.'_

Sebastian's mind whirls, trying to find a response that sounds like Kurt.

"But I miss you," he says, gagging quietly in front of the mirror where he moved back to watch the reaction of Kurt's body to the sound of his voice.

_'Hmm…he's definitely a grower…'_

"Oh, baby," Blaine coos, "I'll be back in an hour. I promise."

Sebastian sighs.

"Yeah…okay. One hour."

"I love yo—"

Sebastian doesn't wait for Blaine to finish before he hangs up, tossing the iPhone on the bed.

An hour.

Blaine would be back in an hour.

And then Sebastian would find a way to pry him out of his pants, 'audition tradition' or no 'audition tradition'.

Though the prospect starts looking less appealing the more Sebastian thinks about.

Maybe Kurt isn't the frigid bitch in this relationship.

An hour.

What is there to do in Bushwick for an hour?

Sebastian has no intention of leaving the house, and not because he likes hanging around in Kurt's body complete naked he tells himself, but because he wouldn't be caught dead in any body wearing Kurt's excuse for a wardrobe.

Sebastian sweeps the space with his eyes, and finds a footlocker in the corner covered by a pile of blankets…_and_ it's locked.

Bingo.

Sebastian walks over and examines the the lock. A padlock…it needs a key.

Sebastian rummages over the dresser, moving bottles and bowties, bizarre animal head brooches and various banally-shaped pins.

He moves on to a squat dresser over by the bed and sifts through the drawers. In the bottom drawer, hidden beneath a collection of brightly-colored scarves (Sebastian can appreciate the thinking behind keeping scarves in a drawer right next to the bed) are a collection of leather bound journals. Sebastian pulls them out and spreads them on the bed. There must be around ten of them in total, each one with a different year stamped on the cover in gold. Sebastian picks the journal with the current year and flips to the last entry.

It was written just yesterday.

Sebastian sits on the bed and crosses his legs, preparing to read.

_Dear diary –_

Sebastian groans. What is he, twelve?

_I think I've finally reached the end of my rope. I love him too much to leave, but I love myself too much to stay. What do I do?_

"Oops, trouble in paradise," Sebastian murmurs. Sebastian wants to gloat more over Kurt's apparent despair, but for some reason he can't. A tiny twinge of guilt hits him when he not only re-reads the words, but notices the handwriting – sloppy, wobbly, some of the ink smeared, parts of the page lighter than the others, as if something dripped in those spots…maybe tears?

Sebastian grabs a handful of pages and turns back in the book. He finds a promising looking passage and begins reading.

_Dear diary – Blaine messed up my coffee order again. _

Sebastian chuckles.

"Oh, boo-hoo…"

_He claims it was the barista's fault, but he messed it up last week, too, at a completely different coffee shop. And the exact same order. Mocha soy latte with a shot of espresso. How does that combination even make sense? When I complained about it, he called me a bitch. He actually called me a bitch in front of everyone. People were staring. I can honestly care less about the coffee; I just can't help but wonder if **he** took his coffee that way._

Sebastian opens Kurt's eyes wide.

_He?_

_Did Blaine Anderson, Mr. Perfect, Sex on a stick and sings like a dream, cheat on Kurt Hummel?_

Sebastian can't believe it. How did he not hear about this before?

Sebastian can't help but feel a little burnt himself. Blaine stepped out on Kurt, and Sebastian was obviously not first on the list of candidates. More than that, Sebastian wonders…why did Kurt take him back?

Sebastian flips forward through the pages.

_Dear diary – The daydream I had about living in New York with my best friend and my fiancé is much different than the reality. Who knew that a loft the size of an airplane hangar would feel so cramped with the addition of one other person…correction – two other people. Apparently now wherever Blaine goes, Sam goes, too. You would think everything would have evened out when Santana decided to move in with Dani, but it hasn't. The closed-in feeling isn't the only side effect of Sam's omnipresence. Blaine barely wants to have sex anymore. He doesn't feel comfortable doing it with Sam in the house. And we don't go out on dates alone together as often as I want because he feels bad leaving Sam out. But my feelings of abandonment don't seem to stop them from all the bro-dates (Sam's word, not mine) that they go on. Midnight movie marathons, sporting events, piggy back rides in the park (I kid you not). I would normally find solace hanging out with Rachel, but with almost all day Funny Girl rehearsals, I never see her. Who knew that living with my three roommates in a city of about 8,000,000 people that I could feel so lonely?_

Sebastian swallows hard. Whenever he saw Blaine and Kurt together, they looked like the stereotypical sappy couple. He never knew about any of this. Of course, Sebastian admits that he's an ass. He looks at Kurt's reflection in the mirror to confirm it.

Yes. Sebastian Smythe is an ass.

But he's an ass that knows a little something about loneliness.

Never really been in love.

Only had fair-weather friends.

Living alone in his expensive penthouse uptown.

Sebastian looks at the iPhone and catches a glimpse of the time.

8:45 a.m.

Blaine should be back in about fifteen minutes, but Sebastian can't imagine that he'll actually be on time. Besides, there wouldn't be anything suspicious about naked Kurt reading through his own journals, so Sebastian picks the first one and starts to read.

_Dear diary –_

_The therapist my dad is sending me to recommends writing in a diary every day so that I can sort out my feelings about losing my mom. Well, here goes…_

_It sucks that she's dead._

_It hurts not having her around._

_Oh yeah, and my therapist should jump off a tall bridge._

_Just a recommendation of my own._

Sebastian laughs, shaking Kurt's head.

_Dear diary –_

_Did you know that a Slushie to the face feels like ice cold shards of glass cutting through your skin? Because it does…_

_Dear diary –_

_Mercedes thought we were dating. I got out of it by telling her I'm in love with Rachel._

_It's kind of like shooting yourself in the head to escape a wild bull attack._

_Dear diary –_

_I can't keep hiding who I am, especially from my dad. It feels like lying. I can be anything. What I am is gay…_

_Dear diary – _

_A jock and his friends threw pee balloons at me, and as pissed as I am (defusing anger through humor right there, by the way) I can't help but think about the mechanics of peeing into a balloon…_

_Dear diary –_

_Another day…another dumpster toss…another fabulous designer outfit ruined…_

Journal after journal, entry after entry of Kurt's life.

Bullying.

Violence.

Intolerance.

A lifetime spent fighting to be seen, hoping to be accepted. And every single time someone pushed him down, he got right back up again.

But it's the entries about Blaine that really turn Sebastian's (or Kurt's…literal or figurative…too confusing) stomach. Sebastian thought that meeting Blaine was like winning the lottery for Kurt. Otherwise, why would he hold onto him so hard? Why would he fight Sebastian tooth and nail to keep him?

The next entry he reads answers his question.

_Dear diary –_

_Do you think that Stephen Chbosky is right?_

_Do we accept the love we think we deserve?_

Another one…one he is prepared to hate…nearly breaks his heart.

_Dear diary –_

_I hate Sebastian Smythe. I hated him in Ohio, but I hate him more now that he's managed to worm his way back into our lives by getting accepted into NYU. Just when I thought he was gone, he just pops right back up._

_He seems to want Blaine so much. I know he probably doesn't love him. It would just be fun for him to break us up._

_But what about me? What does he see in Blaine that he doesn't see in me? I know I'm not the 'alpha gay' that Blaine is, but I'm not chopped liver._

_How come no one is trying to steal me away from Blaine?_

Sebastian closes the journal and crosses Kurt's arms over his chest.

So many burdens. So much pain Sebastian never knew about - his mom dead, his father's health always at risk, and this relationship with Blaine that never seems to be on stable ground.

Sebastian knows his moral compass doesn't always point in the right direction, but even he can see this isn't right. Kurt shouldn't have to go through this anymore.

Sebastian doesn't know if it's a consequence of the time he has spent in Kurt's body, but he feels strangely protective of him; a kind of peculiar affection blooming in Sebastian's heart as he replays every interaction they have ever had, trying to re-read every emotion, every shift of his eyes, every smile that most likely hid something deeper.

He turns back to the mirror, sees Kurt's reflection staring back at him, those impossibly blue eyes, that honest face, the masterpiece of a body that he's inhabited against Kurt's will for the last few hours.

Suddenly Sebastian feels very foolish.

He wishes he could add a few lines to the entry in Kurt's journal; the one that asks what Blaine has that he doesn't. If he could, it would read, "There's nothing he has that you don't, Kurt Hummel. I can see myself falling for you, too."

Sebastian hears the loft door slide open, and more than one pair of feet shuffle in. Sebastian looks at Kurt's phone and sees it's now eleven o'clock. Sebastian bites his lips, feels Kurt's entire body rush with heat.

Blaine is two hours late…and Sebastian is pissed.

Sebastian grabs a shirt and a pair of jeans, and though the shirt goes on relatively easy, the jeans take a little fiddling before he can do up the fly.

Sebastian in Kurt's body storms through the curtains of the partitioned room (amazed at his ease since his first few attempts at movement were unspectacular to say the least) and bears down on Blaine, so distracted with whatever conversation he and Sam are having that he doesn't seem to notice his boyfriend flying at him, fury painting his face scarlet.

"Where the fuck have you been, Blaine Anderson?" Kurt's voice roars, and this time Sebastian doesn't try to think of something that real Kurt might say. Either way, the accusation fits.

"I was out…" Blaine says, laughter dying in his throat, wide whiskey-colored eyes confused, "…with Sam." Blaine rests a hand on Sam's shoulder and Sam at least has the decency to shrink beneath the furious man's glare.

"Oh, really? And when did you make that decision? When I spoke to you at eight o'clock this morning, you were walking baby Babette to the farmer's market, and you said you were going to be gone only an hour. It's eleven o'clock Blaine, and it's Saturday! Did you even stop to think that maybe I would want to spend time with you, too?"

Sebastian, feeling Kurt's body tremble around him as his anger builds, realizes he no longer cares about fucking Blaine. But Kurt…Kurt didn't deserve to be stood up by the man who supposedly loves him.

"The day's not even half over yet, Kurt." Blaine argues. "Sam told me about this great exhibit downtown I thought we could all go to…"

"That's not the kind of time I had in mind, Blaine," Sebastian seethes on Kurt's behalf. "What about our private time, Blaine? What about a good old-fashioned Saturday afternoon fuck fest? It seems like those have gone the way of the dodo since I inherited the blond bimbo here living on my couch."

"Hey!" Sam cuts in. "Not cool, Kurt."

"Really?" Sebastian says, turning on Sam. "You were homeless once. I don't see why you can't be again!"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupts, keeping his voice even and trying to sound diplomatic, "now that's not fair."

"No, hobbit, what's not fair is that you came out here to New York to be with me. So when exactly does the being with me actually start?"

Sebastian feels Kurt's body become breathless, fists clenched by his sides. This is what it means to be Kurt; to fight his entire life to keep the things that other people get handed to them and take for granted.

"Um…I think maybe I'd better go," Sam says, standing with his hands raised, backing away.

"No, Sam, wait…" Blaine turns and catches him by the arm before he makes it to the door. "I think if we just settle down for a minute, we can all work this out."

"No, Sam's right," Sebastian says, nodding Kurt's head. "It's time that there was one less person in this fucking fun house, and that's me. I'm leaving."

Sebastian turns Kurt back towards the bedroom with Blaine hot on his heels.

"Kurt! Kurt, don't! Kurt, stop!"

Sebastian grabs Kurt's phone off the bed and his wallet from the dresser. He slips on Kurt's signature Doc Marten boots, not even sparing a glance for Blaine racing after him, reaching out a hand to grab his arm.

"Kurt! You can't leave!" Blaine sounds panicked, leaping over the sofa in an attempt to cut his fiancé off. "Please! I love you!"

"No, Blaine," Sebastian calls behind him as he brushes by Sam and heads for the door, "you love _you_. There isn't enough left for anyone else."

_'Strutting in Kurt's body has to be the hottest fucking thing in the universe,'_ Sebastian thinks as he catches Kurt's reflection in the windows of the buildings he walks past on the way to the subway. Sebastian laughs a bitter, somewhat heartbroken laugh. He just succeeded in doing the thing he had been trying to accomplish since high school.

He broke up Kurt and Blaine.

Blaine calls Kurt's phone about a hundred times before Sebastian shuts it off. He sits in silence on the train and thinks of everything that's happened in the last few hours. When he bought that stupid potion to switch places with Kurt, the crunchy granola-eating freak told him that the experience might 'change him'. He thought that was pretty obvious, but he never imagined this. He always thought of Kurt as a stuck-up prissy asshole - a peasant that demanded to be treated like a king - and that Blaine was his adorably hot lap dog. Sebastian always told Kurt that he didn't deserve Blaine.

How oddly right Sebastian was.

It's not that Sebastian hated Kurt. Kurt was competition, so Sebastian never really let himself dwell on what could be considered the finer parts of Kurt Hummel. Deep down Sebastian recognized that Kurt was smart, talented, with a razor sharp tongue that matched his own, and now that he's grown into his own fashion sense, Sebastian wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen with Kurt in public.

Kurt doesn't need someone wishy-washy like Blaine, who would pick bromance over romance. Kurt needs a man with balls and a spinal cord.

Sebastian considers whether or not _he_ could be that guy.

Sebastian makes it uptown without remembering a single step of the journey. He manages to flirt his way past security (how did he never notice that Ryan the security guard was gay?) and up to his penthouse by way of a private elevator, thankful that he thought to leave his door unlocked.

He makes a beeline for the bedroom, kicks off Kurt's boots, and climbs into bed beside his sleeping body. It's surreal to look at his own face, knowing that Kurt is trapped behind there. That alone makes it look unfamiliar, softer, not entirely his own. It goes both ways. Knowing everything he knows about Kurt now, this façade that is Kurt's face and body looks so different when he peeks at it in the mirror. He brushes a lock of brown hair away from sleeping eyes, wondering what kind of morning the real Kurt has had, what kind of dreams he might be having now. While the last remaining hours of their time apart from their bodies drips away, Sebastian concocts the story of what he plans to say to Kurt when he wakes up in Sebastian's bed.

At some point Sebastian drifts off to sleep, but wakes up just as the sharp prickling behind his eyes warns him that the switch will be happening soon. He hears his own body whimpering, knowing Kurt can feel the pain, too, and that it's pulling him from his drug-induced slumber. Sebastian wants to whisper something reassuring, but the agony is so all-encompassing that he can't seem to move. With an instantaneous blinding flash of light and a deafening crack that sounds like his entire skull splitting apart, he's aware that he's back in his own body.

That's when the migraine kicks in.

"Oh, God," Kurt…the real Kurt…groans. Sebastian forces his eyes open, a little disoriented at having suddenly traded places on the bed, to watch as Kurt wakes.

"My head…" Kurt continues to groan. "Why does my head feel…OHMYGOD!"

"Please…don't scream…" Sebastian pleads quietly, and even though Kurt looks furious as well as confused, he agrees.

"What the fuck!" Kurt whispers, lifting a hand to his head to block the mind-numbing throb. "Why the hell am I in your bed?"

"Kurt," Sebastian says, but not quiet enough to keep the room from tilting left and right. He thinks for a moment, deciding to go ahead with his prepared lie. "You called me to come pick you up."

"Why would I do something stupid like that?" Kurt squeezes his eyes shut as his voice raises in pitch.

"Because you were drunk…" Sebastian says, hating himself a little, "…you got into a fight with Blaine…and you left. I brought you back here, and then we got drunk some more."

Kurt gasps, his face a shroud of utter disbelief as he tries his best to recall anything, but then his face relaxes a bit, looking mournful and calm.

"Yeah," he whispers, opening his eyes. "I'm not entirely sure why I would call _you_ of all people, but that sounds about right."

Sebastian is a little surprised but he tries not to show it, though he can't imagine that his face shows anything other than the fact that he wants to drop dead.

Kurt sniffles, and Sebastian sees a small tear race down his cheek.

Sebastian can feel that small tear throughout his whole body.

Kurt looks lost and scared, and Sebastian curses to himself, questioning why he didn't just leave well-enough alone.

"What's wrong?" Sebastian asks, trying to act like an outside observer and not letting on the he has volumes of ill-gained insider knowledge.

"It's just…I don't know what I'm supposed to do now," Kurt confesses. "I have nowhere else to go."

"You can stay with me," Sebastian rushes out too quickly, causing his whole head to ring like a bell.

Kurt's mouth twists in a sarcastic frown.

"Yeah, right," he scoffs, trying to get up, succeeding in lifting his head a quarter of an inch off the pillow, and then dropping back down with a wince. "Why would you help me?"

"You and I…I know we've never exactly been friends…"

"I hate you," Kurt deadpans.

Sebastian wants to laugh, but then his face would crack, and his brain would spill out…he's sure of it.

"Yeah, well there are days I pretty much just want to staple your tongue to a wall, but I'm prepared to look past all that, princess."

Sebastian sees Kurt's face twitch, trying not to smile. Kurt abandons his efforts at a sort-of half-smile, and sighs instead.

"I should just go back," Kurt says slowly, as if he's hoping that Sebastian might disagree.

"No, Kurt," Sebastian says emphatically, headache be damned. "You made a lot of sense, and I think if you go back, you'll just be making a huge mistake."

Sebastian moves, slowly reaching across the distance between them, and after several excruciating seconds places a hand over Kurt's, squeezing gently.

"Don't settle, Kurt," Sebastian says. "Don't settle for the love you think you deserve."

A second tear follows the first down Kurt's cheek. He stares at Sebastian, and Sebastian can see his mind working, sluggishly most likely, dragging itself through the mire of pain that Sebastian shares with him.

Sebastian sees the truth in Kurt's eyes – the pain, the fear, the disappointment.

"Look, you don't have to trust me yet," Sebastian interrupts. "I'm not asking you to. Just…don't go back, not today at least. Think about it. Give yourself time."

Kurt doesn't answer. He tries to nod, but his head refuses to move.

"Okay, blink once for yes and twice for no."

Kurt makes a slight sputtering noise as he tries to hold back a laugh, but blinks once.

"Good." Sebastian is actually relieved by Kurt's answer.

"So, what do we do know?" Kurt asks. "I don't think I can move. This hangover is killing me."

"Yeah," Sebastian agrees. "I've got an idea, since we're going to be here for a while, why don't we tell each other our deepest, darkest secrets."

Kurt's face is expressionless, but his eyes look wary.

"I just thought that maybe we should get to know each other a little better…seeing as we're going to be sharing a bathroom and everything."

Sebastian waits for an answer, but Kurt doesn't give him one, still looking him over skeptically.

"Who knows," Sebastian says with what would be a shrug if he could manage one, "maybe I'm not as much of a shit as you think I am."

Kurt sputters again, and smiles.

"Why not," Kurt says. "Stranger things have happened."

Sebastian returns Kurt's smile.

"You have no idea."


	45. Talk Me Down

**A/N:** _Here's a combination anon prompt and personal inspiration. The prompt is suicide, and just so you know, this one has a happy ending, so no worries. But the personal inspiration is a story I once heard about a young woman talking a teenaged boy out of killing himself. Futurefic, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, mention of suicide._

Kurt doesn't understand how exactly he has managed to get so completely lost. He has an in-dash GPS. He has Google maps on his phone. Everything the overtly seductive female computer voices say to him makes sense, but he still can't find the highway. He drives around for over an hour, but no matter which turn he takes, which fork in the road he chooses, he ends up at the same sketchy, abandoned bridge. Every time before he crosses, driving excruciatingly slowly over the wide-set slats, he holds his breath, muttering curses in his head, scared for his life.

A light mist falls on his windshield as he approaches the bridge for what has to be the fifteenth time. He is so focused on just making it to the other side that he barely notices the figure of a man on the outer ledge of the bridge, inching across toward the center. Kurt looks once, then twice to make sure that his mind isn't playing tricks on him, and that he is indeed seeing an impeccably dressed man in a $4,000 Lora Piana cashmere trench coat walking along the outside of the bridge, hands gripping tight to the railing, eyes trained on the rocks and water far below.

Kurt pulls his car to a stop at the mouth of the bridge, stunned, waiting to see if this stranger has some ulterior motive for tip-toing precariously along the narrow edge of a 19th century railroad bridge other than the obvious, because no one commits suicide in this day and age by flinging themselves off of bridges anymore, right? Not when there are guns…and drugs…and_ living_ as an alternative.

The man walks for about a quarter of a mile, then stops and very carefully slides down, sitting on one of the jutting ties with a leg on either side, hands gripping the iron railing behind him, staring off into the distance.

Kurt gasps. He doesn't know the protocol for what to do if you find a man standing on the edge of a bridge, looking like he is preparing to jump. He considers calling 9-1-1, but his phone, which seemed to have full bars just a minute ago, is now completely out of its service area. Kurt sighs. He usually tries not to get involved in other people's problems, but he knows what hopelessness looks like, and there it is, wearing Ferragamo wing-tips, preparing to end it all.

Kurt starts his car and drives slowly across the bridge, trying not to startle the man, but as Kurt approaches, the man doesn't seem to notice…or maybe he just doesn't care. Kurt pulls his car to a stop and kills the engine. He opens the door and for the first time Kurt is hit with the full-force of the freezing night air, the wind immediately tearing through his hair and over his skin like shards of ice. He shivers uncontrollably, and wraps his wool coat tight around his shoulders, slipping gloves on his hands and winding a scarf around his neck. He looks over his shoulder at the man on the bridge, his coat unbuttoned, exposing his body to the elements; no scarf, no gloves, not much protection at all from the pervasive gusting wind and the plunging temperature.

He shuts the door and walks over to the railing, waiting in the silence to see if the man will turn around and take notice. Standing on the slats with both feet crowding the wooden railroad tie, Kurt finally sees for himself just how narrow the space the man occupies is, and a hard lump grows in his throat.

After several tense minutes, his teeth chattering painfully in his mouth, Kurt decides to speak.

"Hey," Kurt calls out, hoping to be heard over the rush of the wind. "Whatcha doing there?"

Kurt rolls his eyes at his lame question, but really? What was he supposed to say?

The man glances over his shoulder, taking a quick sidelong view of Kurt standing behind him. He grimaces, turning away.

"I'm admiring the view," the man spits back. "Now, run along, princess."

Kurt takes a slight step back at the tone of the man's voice – so harsh, so venomous - but Kurt can't bring himself to leave. A few more tense minutes later, and the man turns back around, furious this time.

"Are you lost?" he growls.

Kurt chances a step forward.

"Yes, actually," he says quickly. "I'm trying to make my way back to the interstate, but I keep ending up on this fucking bridge, so if you're not too busy, could you give me directions so I can get out of here?"

The man's green eyes almost pop out of his head when Kurt finishes speaking, his lips slowly twisting into a sardonic grin. He looks Kurt up and down from the top of his upswept hair to the toes of his thick, Doc Marten boots.

"I'm Sebastian," the man says, letting go of his grip on the railing and extending his hand towards Kurt. "Sebastian Smythe."

Kurt's heart thrums nervously at the vision of Sebastian hanging one-handed from the rickety metal railing. He takes another step forward and shakes Sebastian's hand, wondering if there might be some way he could pull the man back over, but Sebastian yanks his hand back too quickly for Kurt to put any sort of plan into action.

"I'm Kurt. Kurt Hummel."

"Well, Kurt Kurt Hummel," Sebastian says, "if you're looking for the interstate, you're about 12 miles too far north. You're going to go back the way you came, make a left at the first stop sign, and keep going."

It sounds more like a command than simply directions.

Sebastian is telling Kurt to leave.

"Thanks a bunch," Kurt says. He walks up to the railing and sits down on the concrete divider, cringing in his head at the tiny voice that screams, _'Don't you dare sit on the filthy ground! These are brand new jeans!'_

The devilish smirk on Sebastian's face turns back into a scowl as Sebastian watches him settle daintily on the ground.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he snarls.

Kurt meets his glare with narrowed eyes.

"I'm tired," Kurt says evenly. "I've been driving for hours and I need a break."

"Take a break somewhere else," Sebastian challenges.

"It's a free country," Kurt counters. "This isn't your bridge. I can sit here if I want."

Sebastian sighs heavily, deciding to give up and do his best at simply ignoring the annoying interloper until he realizes this is pointless and goes away.

Kurt peeks at Sebastian covertly as he looks down at his gloved hands, trying his best to not peer past the wooden slats. He thinks he might know this man, but he can't remember from where.

Seeing as Sebastian is determined not to talk, Kurt decides to take a chance and strike up a conversation.

"I feel like I've seen you before," Kurt says.

"Maybe," Sebastian replies vaguely.

Kurt leans his head to the side against the railing as far as he can, craning to see Sebastian's face fully, and Sebastian turns away, but at the last minute Kurt manages to place his face.

"I know you!" Kurt crows. "I just saw your picture in the paper! You're that steel magnate's son, the one he…_oh_…"

Kurt stops his sentence short, clamping his teeth down on his tongue unless his addled brain thinks of anything else stupid to say.

"Yup, that's me!" Sebastian says bitterly.

Kurt holds his breath, wondering if Sebastian will just say 'Fuck it!' and throw himself overboard.

He looks like he's seriously considering it.

Instead, he relaxes back against railing, and Kurt finds it easier to breathe again.

"You know, I always knew my father was a bastard," Sebastian says, "but I never thought for one second that he would disown me for being gay."

Kurt moves in closer, relieved to hear Sebastian opening up but also scared that this is it; Sebastian telling his side of the story before he ends his life.

"So, that's why you're here?" Kurt asks softly, not wanting to open wounds, but needing to keep Sebastian talking as long as possible, to try and find a way to get him off the ledge.

"No," Sebastian says with another bitter laugh. "No. I don't think he ever really cared too much about me, so not being his son anymore doesn't really change anything."

"Then…what is it?" Kurt pries gently. "Is it the money?"

Kurt remembers reading the article when he saw it on the front page of the paper. Even if it wasn't for the salacious and dramatic headline, how could he miss the picture – a blurry but still nearly X-rated picture – of a half-naked Sebastian climbing all over his reported lover while sun bathing on a nude beach in the south of France. Dillon Smythe, Sebastian's father, had not only disowned his son, but left him with nothing, pulling (among other things) a trust fund estimated at almost two million dollars and several multimillion dollar properties.

Sebastian doesn't seem to hear, but before Kurt can move on to a different question, Sebastian takes a deep breath, letting it out through pursed lips. Kurt can see the cloud his breath creates in the frigid air.

"I don't really need the money," he starts. "I mean, it was nice, but I have a good job. I actually make quite a lot." Sebastian winks at Kurt over his shoulder, and Kurt can't help feeling his cheeks heat up a bit. "I have a penthouse my grandparents left me, and try as he might, my dad can't legally take it away from me…"

Kurt furrows his brow, confused beyond belief.

"So, if you don't need the trust fund, why are you up here?"

Sebastian's next statement is spoken so softly that Kurt almost doesn't hear him over the constantly swirling wind.

"Because he left."

Kurt racks his brain, trying to remember who _he_ might be.

"He…who? The man in the picture?"

Sebastian nods sadly.

"Yeah." Sebastian's hand tightens around the metal bar he's holding on to. "Paolo. He was with me since college. We've been together forever. I thought he loved me. Turns out, that wasn't entirely the case."

"But…I don't get it," Kurt says, shaking his head. "You still have money, a place to live…that's more than most people have."

"Yeah, well, I guess it isn't enough. My money isn't enough. I'm not enough."

Kurt feels himself trembling, but he doesn't know if it's from anger or the overwhelming, biting cold. He imagines it's the former since he stopped feeling the cold a long time ago.

"Then he's not worth it," Kurt says. "He's a gold-digging leech that's not worth your time."

Sebastian doesn't respond, doesn't turn to acknowledge him, and that makes Kurt even angrier.

"And, to tell you the truth, Sebastian…you're being an ass!"

That gets Sebastian's attention.

"Excuse me, princess?" Sebastian asks with a dangerous look in his eyes.

"You heard me. You're going to throw it all away for some…some asswipe? You have everything! You're rich…ish, you probably have had the benefit of some kind of overpriced education, you're gorgeous…"

Sebastian's face immediately melts, and a beautiful, albeit cocky, grin lights up his face.

"You think I'm gorgeous?"

Kurt's eyes widen, and his face, thankfully obscured by the dark night, grows even hotter.

"Not now," Kurt sputters. He turns away to look out at the horizon, feeling Sebastian's eyes watch him, that megawatt smile still glowing in his direction, "you're still an ass."

Sebastian chuckles.

"You know, for a Good Samaritan, you kind of suck at this."

Kurt suddenly feels bold, pulling out all the stops in an effort to get Sebastian off the ledge before it's too late and he falls into the water purely by accident.

"Between you and me," Kurt says, leaning closer to Sebastian's hand where it is latched to the railing, letting his hot breath ghost over the visibly frozen skin, "I'm not all that good."

Sebastian swallows hard, his smile dipping only slightly when his eyes start to simmer with a new and exciting heat.

Sebastian stares at Kurt, can't seem to stop staring, but some other emotion passes over his face, cooling the heat in his eyes, and for a reason Kurt can't explain, he turns away.

He suspects that Sebastian figured out his ploy.

Kurt's heart sinks. It would have been nice if it had worked. Kurt knows it's a long shot, but he's starting to like Sebastian. Outside of not wanting to see another human being of the Earth planet kill themselves, it would be nice if a guy like Sebastian – intelligent, kind, handsome, caring – would give Kurt a chance.

Kurt knows what it's like to want to jump off a ledge.

He spent most of his high school years talking himself down from them.

"So, what are _you_ doing out here this late at night?" Sebastian asks. "Or do you just make it a habit of trolling bridges, looking for potential lost souls to help?"

"I usually avoid bridges when I can," Kurt reveals without a second thought, wrapping his own gloved hand around the railing on the bar above Sebastian's.

"Why?" Sebastian scoffs. "Afraid of heights?"

Kurt waits for the echo of the taunt to fade from his ears before he answers.

"My mom died on a bridge."

Sebastian's head snaps around to look at Kurt, assessing his face shrewdly to see if he's lying, to see if this is another trick. Kurt's eyes stay glued to the sky, and Sebastian sighs.

Maybe he is an ass.

"I…I'm s-sorry, man," Sebastian says for lack of anything more poignant or philosophical to say. His teeth clatter when he speaks, his whole face numb.

"That's alright," Kurt replies with a shrug. "It was a long time ago. You didn't know."

Kurt feels a hand close around his. When he looks, Sebastian's stiff fingers are covering Kurt's gloved hand in an effort to be comforting. Kurt can feel his gelid fingers, the nails already turning blue, the waxy pallor to his skin, and Kurt knows he's running out of time. In another half hour, it won't matter if Sebastian jumps or not. He's going to end up with hypothermia, and Kurt isn't sure he can climb out on the ledge to get to him.

"To tell you the truth, I'm kind of a lost soul myself," Kurt confesses. "I'm sort of running away from my life."

"R-really?"

"Yeah," Kurt says, wrapping his free hand over Sebastian's frozen one. "Someone I love…someone I thought I'd love forever…broke my heart." Kurt rubs gently over Sebastian's skin, encouraged when he doesn't pull away and lets Kurt continue to warm his skin.

"Wh-what did he do?" Sebastian asks, his voice wobbly, his breath shuddering. Kurt considers trying to walk over to where Sebastian's back leans against the railing to wrap his scarf around his neck, but he's afraid to let go of his hand just in time to watch him fall.

"He cheated on me," Kurt says, creeping his hands up Sebastian's arms as far as he can reach to rub at the nearly paralyzed limb. "He thought I was going to leave him, so he slept with someone else. Someone he met on Facebook."

Sebastian rolls his head on his shoulders and squints to focus on Kurt, and Kurt can see that Sebastian's lips are chapped and blue.

"D-d-d-douche," Sebastian stutters. "Y-you d-don't n-need him. Y-you s-s-seem like a gr-great g-guy."

Kurt smiles sheepishly, concocting another plan.

"Do you really think so?" Kurt asks, removing one hand from Sebastian's arm to grab hold of his hand.

Sebastian tries to nod, but his whole upper body quakes, and Kurt reacts quickly, squeezing his hand tight, just in case falls.

"I-I d-d-do," Sebastian says. "I qu-question y-your h-h-hairdo a-and y-y-your t-t-taste in cl-clothes…"

Kurt frowns, trying hard to keep his bitch side at bay.

"…b-but I th-think you-re gr-gr-great."

"Then, Sebastian," Kurt says, quiet but firm. "Come with me."

Sebastian stares, his body trembles so violently now that Kurt can't tell if he's shaking his head no or nodding yes, but he doesn't speak. His mouth is locked tight, breath coming in ragged puffs through his nose.

"I don't care about your money. I don't care if your dad disowned you. If you and I met at a bar or a coffee shop or anywhere in the world, I would like you because you seem like an amazing guy, and I want to get to know you. I do, Sebastian. So, will you give me that chance?"

Sebastian still doesn't speak, but Kurt can see his legs start to work, knees trying to bend. He hears the railing rattle as Sebastian pulls at it weakly. Kurt springs into action, leaping over to where most of Sebastian's body rests against the railing, panicking for a second when he is forced to let go in order to get a better grip. He pulls with all his might, and for several nerve-wracking and back-breaking minutes supports Sebastian's weight as he pulls himself to his feet, the struggle and the strain seeming to loosen stiff muscles enough for Sebastian to get upright. But now, standing straight, with his hips leaning against the railing, he stops again, eyes fixed on the rocks beneath him.

"Wh-what's the matter?" Kurt says, manic now that the end is so near.

"I…I'm afraid of heights."

"Afraid of heights?" Kurt cries with the shadow of a laugh. "Weren't you just making fun of me for being afraid of heights?"

"Kurt…"

"I mean, you're on a bridge…"

"Kurt…"

"What kind of idiot throws themselves off a bridge if they're afraid of heights?"

"The kind that's not thinking, alright?" Sebastian yells, cutting Kurt short. "I mean, that's why I was up here, right? But, now I'm scared, Kurt. So, please…I just want to come with you, but…"

Sebastian's vulnerability tugs on Kurt's heart like a thread. He didn't mean to be so cruel, but all the pent up anxiety let itself loose without Kurt's ability to stop it. He has to do something, but he's more than feeling the effects of too much time sitting in one spot in the cold, too, and he's running out of strength. Sebastian's hands are locked to the railing now, and with his mind focusing on not falling, Kurt doesn't think he'll let go long enough for Kurt to help him across.

He has a thought, a fleeting thought that turns into a solution. Kurt cups a hand beneath Sebastian's chin and pulls the attention of his terror-stricken green eyes up to Kurt's more confident blue ones. He leans in close, brushing their noses together, Sebastian's skin startlingly frigid, and kisses him. Kurt can hear Sebastian gasp when their mouths connect. Sebastian's lips are cold, quivering, but Kurt deepens the kiss, trying his hardest to pass along whatever warmth he has left, whatever calm he possesses. Soon, Sebastian's lips are warmer, more pliant against his.

Kurt sucks Sebastian's top lip into his mouth, and Sebastian whines in the back of his throat. Kurt reaches out a hand and grabs Sebastian's arm, leading him around, tugging at him gently and offering him support as he climbs over the rail, chasing Kurt's lips with his mouth, eager to take control. When he's safe over the railing, Sebastian wraps his arms around Kurt's body and Kurt, trying to keep focus with the intensity of Sebastian's mouth claiming his, unwinds his scarf carefully and wraps it around Sebastian's neck. Sebastian leans Kurt back, his tongue slipping smoothly into Kurt's mouth to caress his, and Kurt's knees go weak, fingers struggling to do up the buttons of Sebastian's coat.

Sebastian feels Kurt helping him, feels himself getting warmer as his coat is closed up and a scarf placed around his neck.

"Thank you," he whispers into Kurt's mouth, not ready to break away from this paragon in his arms, who came to his rescue when he thought he had no one.

"Why don't you thank me later when we get off of this bridge?" Kurt suggests, and if it sounds a little like an invitation, then that might have been intentional.

"You really want me to come with you?" Sebastian asks, unsure. "It's not an act?"

Kurt looks up into Sebastian's eyes, clear and impossibly green, shining from the cold in the air and the heat of their kiss.

"I want you to come with me," Kurt says.

Sebastian smiles, and Kurt pulls away. Sebastian takes Kurt's hand and lets himself be lead over to Kurt's car.

"You know," Sebastian says, feeling more himself now than he has in weeks, "I'm kind of clingy. You saved my life. I might not want to let you go."

Kurt unlocks the car door and gives Sebastian a shove to get him inside.

Sebastian sits obediently and locks the door, waiting patiently for Kurt to climb in on the driver's side.

"Didn't someone once say that relationships that start because of crisis situations are doomed to failure?"

"Yup," Sebastian confirms as Kurt buckles up his seat belt and starts the car. "That's why for us, no relationship. We're just going to fuck."

Kurt laughs as he drives quickly off the bridge, following Sebastian's directions to the interstate, not quite so lost anymore.


	46. A Friend of a Friend

**A/N:** _For the anon prompt: 'Hunter tries to set Kurt and Sebastian up'. Here is a first try at this one. I hope you guys like it :)_

_Hunter tries to get Sebastian to go on a blind date with his girlfriend's friend. Futurefic, College AU_

Hunter drops a heavy stack of books on the desk in front of Sebastian to get his attention. It doesn't work, but he knew it wouldn't. Hunter leans down low, watching Sebastian continue to work on his Calculus assignment as if Hunter doesn't even exist.

"I found you a guy, Sebby," Hunter whispers with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"No," Sebastian says without looking up.

"He's a friend of my girlfriend, Quinn," Hunter barrels on as if Sebastian hadn't even voiced an objection. "He's studying musical theater at NYADA…"

"Pfft…" Sebastian closes his book with a disgusted scoff. Realizing Hunter is not about to drop the subject, Sebastian decides to try and make a quick getaway.

"What 'pfft'?" Hunter asks, taking up the chase. "You haven't even seen him. I have, and I have to say, he's pretty hot."

"Musical theater equals drama queen and more than likely _flaming _drama queen," Sebastian explains, shoving his way through the double-doors of the NYU library in an attemp to evade his annoying friend. "And how do you know if he's hot or not? Aren't you the man who claimed he wasn't even remotely bi-curious?"

"Hey," Hunter says, dodging behind Sebastian as he tries to lose him through a crowd of cursing students as he walks against the flow of traffic, "I don't have to be gay to recognize a hot piece of ass when I see it, and man, oh man, does he got one."

"Hunter, you have no idea just how gay you sound right now."

"Come on, Seb," Hunter whines, "give him a chance. You owe me."

"How do you figure that?"

Sebastian stops walking, with Hunter coming up short and almost running into him from behind.

"Do I need to mention a certain ass tattoo I now have from the last time you got me drunk and left me at the Gamma Theta Nu frat house during pledge week when you PROMISED you'd keep an eye on me?"

"I'd say that tattoo was a lesson well learned," Sebastian says, taking off again with Hunter hot on his heels. "You put your trust in the wrong person."

"Sebastian…"

"Besides," Sebastian railroads ahead, "tattoos can be removed, but clingy blind dates, they're much harder and more painful to get rid of."

Hunter manages to leap ahead of the taller man, putting out his hands to stop him.

"Please," Hunter pleads, looking desperate, "just give him a chance."

"Why are you even doing this?" Sebastian asks.

"Can't I just try and set my best friend up with a great guy out of the goodness of my heart?" Hunter blinks up at Sebastian innocently.

"You have no heart that science has been yet to identify," Sebastian deadpans.

Hunter's shoulders drop in defeat.

"Look, I promised Quinn I'd find a date for her friend, and I really think the two of you could hit it off. So come on, what do you say?"

Sebastian hedges, thinking it over for a moment, watching the hope build in Hunter's eyes.

"Nope," he says decisively, pushing past Hunter and running face first into someone, knocking them to the ground.

"What the fuck!?" a shrill voice screams. "Look where the hell you're going!"

"What the fuck are you PMS'ing for?" Sebastian retorts. "It was just an accident."

"Yeah, an accident that wouldn't have happened if you could learn to pay attention."

Sebastian watches the pale man stand up, long legs stretching in the tightest jeans Sebastian has ever seen painted onto another human being, meeting at an ass that could make a grown man drop to his knees and beg. Sebastian doesn't realize he's staring, because he's never gawked at another man before. Sure, he's used to being stared at, but Sebastian Smythe doesn't stare.

Except now he is definitely staring.

The view gets better when the man finally stands completely upright. Narrow hips, a trim waist, and muscular upper arms only partially obscured by the sleeves of a pale blue button down shirt, the top two buttons undone; the soft, soothing color complimenting the most startling blue eyes Sebastian has ever seen. Right now, though, it's this man's perfect mouth that has Sebastian's undivided attention, as it curses to put every truck driver in the tri-state area worth his salt to shame.

"…make you pay for the fucking dry cleaning."

Silence.

Sebastian shakes his head, only vaguely aware that the gorgeous, bow shaped lips have stopped moving.

"Come again, princess?" Sebastian says, trying to gain a little of the upper hand that he lost during the course of this one-sided bitch fight.

The man peers at Sebastian through narrow eyelids.

"Do you actually even attend school here?" he says coolly. "Because if you do, I'd seriously consider asking for your money back."

Sebastian has a thousand barbs in his arsenal, all waiting on standby for just such an occasion, but not a single one manages to make it to his mouth once the man spins around on his heel, brushing long fingers over that masterpiece of an ass as he dusts off his jeans, and storms away.

"What a fucking princess," Sebastian says, but it's the tone of almost awe in his voice, the way his jaw drops, the mesmerized expression on his face that makes Hunter's lips curls into a triumphant grin. He's never seen that look on Sebastian Smythe's face, but he sure as hell knows what it means.

"That _princess_ is Kurt Hummel. Quinn's friend," Hunter clarifies.

Sebastian doesn't say anything in response as he cranes his head over the oncoming crowd of students to watch that ass for as long as he can while Kurt sashays away.

"So, what do you think?" Hunter asks, crossing his arms smugly over his chest.

"I think," Sebastian says, clamping a hand onto Hunter's shoulder even though he doesn't turn to address him, "that you live to be a douche another day."


	47. God Bless the King

**A/N: **_One-shot for the anon prompt 'paredolia'. Kurt is going down on his boyfriend when he comes face to face with an interesting birthmark. Warnings for oral. (Pareidolia - is a type of illusion or misperception involving a vague or obscure stimulus being perceived as something clear and distinct for example - seeing the face of Jesus in a grilled cheese sandwich)_

"Sebastian?" Kurt peeks up with concerned eyes from where he kneels between his boyfriend's legs. "Sebastian…what is this?"

Sebastian peeks down at him, his eyebrow raised at the awkward question.

"That, Kurt," Sebastian says, "is my dick. And from where you are the best thing to do is stick it in your mouth and…"

"I'm not talking about that, you ass!" Kurt hisses, smacking Sebastian on the hip. "I mean this here…

Kurt runs a gentle finger over a spot on Sebastian's inner thigh, barely able to enjoy the small tremor that travels through Sebastian at his touch over the thread of worry in his mind.

Sebastian sighs.

"Is it splotchy and kind of beige?" he asks.

"Yeah," Kurt says, still eying it warily.

"It's just a birthmark, babe," Sebastian says dismissively, putting a hand to the back of Kurt's head and trying to redirect him to the task at hand. Kurt shrugs the hand off and Sebastian huffs in frustration as his hard-on withers a bit.

"Have you even seen this?" Kurt asks, relaxing at his boyfriend's reassurance.

"Kurt…" Sebastian eyes the ceiling, trying to think erotic thoughts until his boyfriend gets his head back in the game, "I'm pretty flexible, but as previous adventures in self-fellacio have proven to me, I in no way can examine the spot you're looking at with my own eyes."

"You could use a mirror, doofus," Kurt groans, delivering another smack, this one to Sebastian's ass.

_That_ brought his hard-on back.

"What would be the fun in that?" Sebastian asks. "Besides, I had a dermatologist check it out. It's okay. So now that we know that I'm healthy, can we get back to…"

"Do you know it kind of looks like Elvis?" Kurt asks, tilting his head and giggling.

"You mean, like the King?" Sebastian peeks back down at Kurt, this time a little curious himself.

"Yeah." Kurt runs a finger around the outline, and Sebastian moans.

"Young Elvis or old Elvis?"

Sebastian reaches down and wraps his fingers around his cock, pumping slowly. He can't help it – Kurt's light touches against his skin, his breath so close to where he wants Kurt's mouth to be…Sebastian's cock is desperate for attention.

Kurt sees Sebastian's hand and brushes it away, replacing it with his own.

"It looks like hot…sexy…young Elvis…" Kurt runs a tongue around the edge of the birthmark, licking, kissing, and sucking while he speaks, working over Sebastian's growing erection with deliberate strokes of his fist.

"D-does that turn you on?" Sebastian stutters, dying to rib Kurt really bad about what could be a brand new fetish, but he doesn't want to risk losing that hand on his cock and Kurt's talented mouth so achingly close to his balls.

"Would that be strange if it does?" Kurt moans against his skin. "Because if it's not strange, this could become my favorite activity…" Kurt wraps his lips around Sebastian's balls and sucks lightly, licking gently with his tongue. Sebastian's back arches off the bed, and every taunt he can think of dies in his throat.

"N-no," he mutters quickly. "No, not strange at all. Completely normal. Do that whenever you want…"

Kurt smiles, stroking Sebastian faster, thrilled by the low whine it elicits.

"Whenever I want?" Kurt asks, pulling only far enough away to be heard.

"Yup," Sebastian whimpers, trying to get Kurt to go back. "Far be it for me to deny another Elvis fan."

"_Another_ Elvis fan?" Kurt chuckles. "I didn't know you were a fan of Elvis."

"O-oh yeah," Sebastian stammers, managing to wiggle his way back into his boyfriend's mouth, "he's been my absolute fave for at least…oh…the last three minutes…"


	48. The End of African Violets

**A/N: **_This one took me a while to write and had me crying at the end, so be warned. Written from a prompt from '642 Things to Write About' - a houseplant is dying. Tell it why it needs to live'; with a little personal inspiration thrown in. Sebastian comes home from work to find Kurt home early from promoting his fashion tour, desperately begging a dying African violet to spring back to life. Futurefic, angst, emotional hurt/comfort. Warnings for anxiety and talk of impending character death._

Sebastian's whole body feels like one giant knot; every muscle tightening together to form a single taut band. He sighs, trying to work out the stress and tension with massages from his own impotent fingers, lamenting the fact that the owner of the most talented fingers he knows is gallivanting across the country introducing his new fall couture line.

Sebastian groans, giving up on his useless attempts to relieve his agony. Kurt has been gone for over two weeks, and Sebastian's shoulders aren't the only part of his body in need of a good massage.

When he unlocks his apartment door and steps inside, he's greeted by the soft yellow light in the hallway that he knows he didn't leave on when he left for work in the morning, and a very welcome piece of Burberry luggage that he wasn't expecting to see again until early next week.

Aside from the appearance of the luggage and the light, nothing else seems different. No one appears to be home.

"Kurt?" Sebastian calls into the emptiness, hoping to lure his husband out of hiding.

Of course, there is another option.

Maybe Kurt is waiting for him in bed already…naked…

The image that pops into his head is enough for Sebastian to sprint towards the master bedroom despite his screaming muscles and the intense pounding in his head from a day spent dodging stupid interns and their inane questions. If a person spends a hundred some odd thousand dollars on a college education, Sebastian felt that at least they should remember the moronically easy shit and stop bothering him every five seconds. Then again, there was always Sebastian's favorite solution to this particular problem: intern cage match battle to the death. There's only ever one job spot open at the company anyway. Better to win it via hand to hand combat than the daily dance these barely out of college students are trying to perfect of sucking up and bad flirting.

Further into the apartment, Sebastian starts to hear a low murmur that blooms into a sorrowful voice pleading, "Please…please, no! Don't be dead! You can't! Just…just come back…please…"

Sebastian softly pads into the bedroom, careful not to disturb his husband, narrowed eyes assessing the current state of the usually perfectly composed man that Sebastian calls his one and only. At this moment he looks worn down in places – flawless coif pulled askew with a few traitorous hairs hanging down into Kurt's eyes, the top few buttons of his hand tailored dress shirt undone, suit jacket rumpled along the back as if he spent all night asleep in a high back chair.

The creak of the wood floor beneath Sebastian's feet gives him away and Kurt stops muttering, head popping up like a scared rabbit, except instead of running he turns on his pursuer. Sebastian almost takes a step back when he sees Kurt's face – pale skin red and splotchy, eyes blood shot and frantic, dried trails of tears starting from his eyes and blending together into a single waterfall down his cheeks.

"What is this?" Kurt snarls between bared white teeth, the tears that had collected along the contours of his lips breaking loose and continuing the journey around his mouth and down to his jawline. Kurt thrusts his hands forward and cradled in them Sebastian recognizes a pot with some dried, crumbly dirt, and the shriveled remains of a long dead flower.

"Ugh…" Sebastian makes a face as he stares at the poor, desiccated thing. "That's one really dead plant."

"Yes, it is," Kurt agrees, his voice shaky yet still highly venomous. "A really dead plant that _you_ were responsible for taking care of."

Sebastian's face doesn't improve as he mulls over Kurt's words, trying hard to remember exactly when he had made a vow to insure the safety and well-being of this pathetic piece of decorative flora. Kurt shakes the pot in Sebastian's face as if closer proximity to the ashen leaves and skeletal purple flowers will help jar his memory, but Sebastian only shakes his head, a hand reaching unconsciously up to his own shoulders, once again trying futilely to massage the tightening mass of knots.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, I just don't remember." Sebastian shrugs, going for apologetic but coming off as condescending instead.

"You know, I asked you for one thing," Kurt says, his sudden calm unnerving, "_one_ thing, and you couldn't even manage that." Kurt advances on Sebastian, shuffling along the floor, his Fratelli Rossetti wingtips scraping along the high polished shellac beneath their feet.

"I said I was sorry," Sebastian says in his retreat, "I was busy with work and I guess I forgot."

"You forgot?" Kurt stops walking forward and the quaking in his limbs seems to intensify. "It's a plant, Sebastian! It's a fairly simple thing to take care of. But look at it!" Kurt thrusts it forward again, causing a few crispy leaves and petals to shed and flutter to the floor. "What did you do? Give it bleach?"

Sebastian, flummoxed by his husband's anger over such a trivial thing, feels his ire rising. With everything he has been dealing with at the office since Kurt left on his trip to rub elbows and hobnob with fashion's elite, how was he supposed to dedicate so much unexpendable time and effort to a plant whose days were probably numbered even before Kurt left?

"Sure, Kurt," Sebastian bites back, "right after you left, I immediately came in here and started feeding it poisonous chemicals just so that I could enjoy this moment that we're sharing right now."

"No," Kurt retorts, shaking his head. "No, what you did was worse. You did nothing. You just didn't care. It was important to me, so it was _un_important to you. Is this how you're going to act when we finally have kids?"

The emphasis on the word 'finally' stung Sebastian, since they had been having this conversation about children for years. They both agreed that they wanted them, but that now wasn't the right time, so the discussion had waned and then finally gone cold.

"So, because I let one plant die, that means I'm going to be a shit father?" Sebastian growls.

"_I_ didn't say it."

But Kurt sure as hell implied it.

Sebastian can feel the acidic scorch of a thousand hateful comments rise like bile in his throat, and a younger Sebastian would have let them fly. Instead, this more mature Sebastian takes a deep breath and swallows hard, pushing the words painfully back down into his chest. When he opens his mouth again his voice is tempered, maybe even comforting.

"I don't understand what the big deal is. I'll just buy you a new one."

For some inexplicable reason, this starts a torrent of tears falling down Kurt's cheeks, his lips twisting into a sickening grimace.

"I don't want a new one!" he screeches. "I want this one. You can't just let something die and then replace it. I like _this_ African violet."

Sebastian's temporary calm starts to bleed away no matter how hard he tries to hold on to it.

"So, did you just come home early to badger me?" Sebastian barks. "You know, I had a horrible day, and stupid me, I was excited to see you home early! I thought maybe, just maybe you were here because you missed me!" Sebastian steps forward without even noticing, crowding Kurt backward against the wall, the doomed little plant still clutched in his cupped hands. "Well, excuse me, princess, if I was too busy working to care about some dumb shit plant that, by the way, you only like because your father gave it to you."

Sebastian gestures towards the plant, but he is so close he smacks the pot out of Kurt's hand, sending it flying into the wall, the brittle plastic cracking and shattering to a million pieces. Kurt grabs his hand away, stepping back as if Sebastian had intended on hitting him.

Kurt's eyes lock on the devastated plant and its fractured pot, and he crumbles, sliding down the wall, his mouth open in horror, wrapped around a silent sob.

Sebastian sees the look of ultimate and utter despair on his husband's face, but he's finding it hard to be sympathetic. After all, Sebastian works hard, too. And he missed Kurt so much he could barely find words to describe it. It was like a physical piece of him was missing, with only phantom remnants hanging around the apartment to torment him. But here he comes home early, and instead of falling into each other's arms, they were bickering over this stupid African violet. Of course, Burt had gotten it for Kurt and that made it special, Sebastian had to admit that, but…

That's when all the tumblers fit into place one at a time until the whole puzzle unlocked.

_Home early._

Kurt never comes home from his tours early. He had bronchitis once during a show in Paris, and he slammed back antibiotics and suffered through.

_Dead plant._

_Dead plant his father gave him._

"Oh, God, Kurt," Sebastian says, reaching for Kurt with trembling hands. Kurt doesn't acknowledge the man wrapping his arms around him, but he doesn't resist either.

"Oh, Kurt," Sebastian repeats, unsure of what else there is in the world to say.

Sorry?

Over the course of their rollercoaster relationship, Sebastian has run out of 'sorry's. In fact, he's more than sure he holds IOU's to Kurt for more than a few.

"Is he really…? When did you find out?"

And without even having to hear the answer, Sebastian starts crying, too. Because this isn't just anyone they're talking about. It's Burt. Burt who could have objected to him and Kurt dating, especially after all the shit Sebastian pulled; after he tried to rock salt Kurt and tried to blackmail Finn. Burt could have said no when Sebastian asked for his blessing to marry Kurt. But Burt is the most fair-minded man Sebastian has ever met. He accepted Sebastian, taking him at face value once he saw just how much he loved his son. He always made Sebastian feel like a member of the family. He taught Sebastian to rebuild a transmission. He invited him to family dinners every Friday. They watched the Buckeyes play while Kurt read Vogue. They entered the bass fishing tournament at the Auglaize River every year.

Sebastian is proud to consider Burt his dad.

"C-carole c-alled me," Kurt chokes between sobs. "He's in a coma. There's really no hope, so basically they're just waiting…"

"For you?" Sebastian finishes quietly.

Kurt nods.

"And you," Kurt says. It sounds a little like a question, and it breaks Sebastian's heart that Kurt thinks he wouldn't drop everything to be at Burt's side.

"Of course," Sebastian says, squeezing Kurt tight, preparing to let go. "I'll just hop online and turn in our Jet-Blue vouchers…"

"Not...not just yet," Kurt says, curling further into Sebastian's chest. "Can we just sit here for a minute?"

"Sure," Sebastian says, relaxing into his husband's body and holding him infinitely tighter, because even though they're borrowing time, Sebastian knows that Kurt needs to breathe in deep and in their own private sanctuary take a moment to mourn the end of his African violets.


	49. Never Could I Believe

**A/N:** _This is a follow up to 'Never Have I Ever'; the one shot for the prompt drunk where Kurt calls a male escort on Valentine's Day and ends up with Sebastian Smythe. This one-shot takes place the next day when Kurt takes up Sebastian on his offer to go out for a drink._

Kurt stared with bleary eyes at his phone, the number on the screen shifting in and out of focus intermittently, adding to his almost blinding headache. It took Kurt a few minutes to gather his thoughts after Sebastian had kissed him and left. He didn't know why, but the moment the door shut behind him Kurt felt alone…no, not just alone, painfully bereft, like the dawn of something new and exciting had gone, leaving him to wallow once again in the mire of his life as it stood thus far.

The worst part was he had let him go without an argument. Just stood stupidly and watched him walk away.

Sebastian left so many unanswered questions. They all swam around in Kurt's brain and that, mixed with way too much tequila, made his head pound like a badly executed timpani solo. It forced him to retreat into the cool, dark, soothing cave of his bedroom. Kurt climbed beneath his comforter, intent on letting the wash of inebriation drag him under and drown him for the night, but no matter how hard he tried to simply relax into unconsciousness he couldn't help thinking about that kiss.

Sebastian's lips claimed his. There was nothing chaste or sweet about it. It was hungry, desperate, almost proving a point.

And that revelation - he had wanted to make love to Kurt? When was that exactly? When he was drooling over Blaine, making moves to steal him away, or when he was planning to throw a rock salt filled Slushie in his face? Or how about all of that time when they barely spoke a word to each other? When exactly in the midst of all this was Sebastian pining over him?

He should just let it lie he told himself. Things were just fine before tonight, before Sebastian Smythe showed up and threw a wrench into Kurt's perfectly ordered loneliness. The wounds Blaine left behind were barely scarred over. Was he really going to let someone come into his life and tear those wounds open again?

Kurt hedged, typing out a message and then erasing it again, deciding again to take the initiative and suss out the bullshit in Sebastian's great admission of unrequited desire, then canceling it in favor of leaving well-enough alone. Exhaustion tugged on his eyelids, forcing them shut, and Kurt let them, holding his phone in his hand, his thumb still paused above the send button on the touch screen. With barely anything else running through his mind making any kind of sense, he told himself that a relationship with Sebastian Smythe was just asking for trouble. It would end in heartbreak even before it began. He was sure of it. So he curled around his pillow, unable to find the strength to do much more than abandon all thoughts of Sebastian until a later date yet to be determined. He drifted off to sleep, adjusting his arms beneath his pillow to keep his head elevated, tightening his grip on his phone, and accidentally pressing the send button.

When Kurt woke nearly eight hours later, his phone was vibrating gently in his hand. He pulled it out from under the pillow, the screen glowing astronomically bright to his squinting, photophobic eyes. Again his head throbbed, but he honed in on the words dancing in and out of his view, and his heart leapt into his throat.

_From: Sebastian_

_'Eight o'clock at Whiskey Park. Gotcha. It's a date.'_

Kurt groaned, and then winced when the sound echoed in his head like a loud, hollow bell.

Why did he have to say 'date'?

* * *

Sebastian was already there; already waiting at a low, wooden table when Kurt walked into the bar. Their eyes met and to Kurt's surprise Sebastian stood, offering him a hand and helping him into his seat.

"When did you turn into such a gentleman?" Kurt infused his voice with all the embitterment built up over the years of teasing, taunting, and scheming, but to his own dismay he sounded more intrigued…if not even just a little enchanted.

"Never," Sebastian said, quirking an eyebrow. He pushed Kurt's seat in and then returned to his own. "But I didn't really give you your money's worth the other night, so I thought I could make up for it."

"Well, if you remember, you gave me my money back," Kurt said flatly. "Besides, I thought this was a date."

"It is," Sebastian agreed with a nod. "I ordered you a club soda, by the way."

Sebastian slid the drink over to Kurt with a smirk, knowing that the extremely bland soda acted as a silent jab towards his all too quick intoxication of the night before.

"Thanks," Kurt said, decidedly ignoring the drink with a roll of his eyes, sweeping them over the traditional, old school, 1950s men's club atmosphere of the lounge where they sat. "This is an…interesting place. Do you meet many clients here?"

"If you can consider my dad a client," Sebastian scoffed, his tight smile obscured by his tumbler when he took a sip of his whiskey. "This is where I used to meet him for drinks every Saturday night."

Kurt nodded, wondering why the past tense. As far as Kurt knew Sebastian's father was still alive. He didn't know much about Sebastian's relationship with his father. In fact, Kurt didn't know much of anything about Sebastian, but he was surprised to realize how very much he wanted to learn, starting with his current mode of employment.

"So, what happened to Sebastian Smythe's rumored gigantic…uh…trust fund?" Kurt jumped in with both feet, not content to pussy foot around with false pleasantries.

"Excuse me?" Sebastian sputtered around the sip he was currently choking on.

"Did your dad disown you or something?" Kurt rephrased. "I mean, why the job?"

"Wow, you don't beat around the bush, do you, Hummel?" Sebastian dabbed at his mouth and the front of his shirt with a napkin. He scowled slightly at the liquid which threatened to stain, but he couldn't help sounding impressed by Kurt's straightforwardness. His eyes fell on Kurt's glass of club soda. Kurt pushed the glass towards him.

"Be my guest," Kurt offered, watching Sebastian saturate his napkin and press the wet cloth to the spreading stain. Sebastian seemed unnecessarily focused on his task, and Kurt suspected he was searching for the right way to answer the question.

"I wasn't like you in high school, Kurt," Sebastian started off uneasily, not looking up to meet Kurt's eyes even when he folded his napkin and placed it back on the table.

"Yeah, I know," Kurt grumbled, "and every opportunity you had you rubbed my 'gay' face in it." Kurt raised his hands and made air-quotes for emphasis, referring to the jeer Sebastian had made when Kurt told him to lay off of Blaine all those years ago back at the Lima Bean.

Sebastian sighed. This wasn't starting out well.

"No, I mean…I didn't have friends like you did." Sebastian rested his hands around his glass, dragging his fingers through the condensation as a means to distract himself from his own words. "I didn't have anyone I could consider close…like a family."

Sebastian's eyes flicked up quickly, as if he expected Kurt to garner an ultimate answer from just those few clues. Kurt shrugged.

"I don't get it," he admitted. "What about the Warblers? And Dalton? Blaine said you were super popular there. Weren't you captain of the lacrosse team or something?"

"Yeah, but, there wasn't anyone I was really close to." Sebastian stirred the ice in his glass with his index finger. "I mean, the whole time I was a member of the Warblers, all I heard was how great you and Blaine were, and how much they missed you. It didn't matter how hard I worked really, I was just standing in your guys' shadow."

Kurt narrowed his eyes skeptically as Sebastian spoke. It sounded too much like something the old Sebastian would have said to manipulate him, to make him think he was the good guy and then turn around and prove him wrong. But what did he have to gain by lying to Kurt? In the past, Blaine seemed like the likely prize. Kurt couldn't imagine that Sebastian would want in his pants enough to lie to him to this extent. After all, he was an escort for Christ's sake.

"And I wasn't all that close to the guys on the lacrosse team," he continued. "They were pretty much out for themselves."

Silence greeted Kurt once again, another expectant pause as if Sebastian was pulling him down a seemingly obvious path by his teeth.

Sebastian's green eyes finally met Kurt's, the sincerity in their depths startling him. It transformed his whole face, made him seem new, different, like Kurt was meeting him for the first time but without that annoying aura of superiority that seemed to travel everywhere with him. Here in this bar he was just Sebastian, a man Kurt's age who could have been his friend if things had been different; if they had been different.

"I wanted to be like you guys," Sebastian admitted.

"Fabulously well-dressed?" Kurt joked.

"Disgustingly in love," Sebastian countered with a cheeky grin.

"You wanted Blaine," Kurt stated to squash all argument, finally finding his bitterness.

"I wanted what Blaine _had_," Sebastian corrected, leaning forward over the table.

"What was that exactly?"

Kurt started opening the wounds himself, to finally let Sebastian see the raw and jagged edges of his pain, some of which _he_ had caused. "Talent? Popularity? Friends?"

"Yeah, somewhat," Sebastian swallowed back a few choice words he wasn't too sure about.

"What else was there?" Kurt huffed in frustration. "His questionable taste in sunglasses and his gel-helmet hair?"

Sebastian rolled his head on his neck, staring at the ceiling, muttering under his breath.

"Please don't make me say it," Kurt heard him mumble. Sebastian balled his hands into fists and pounded the table gently, letting out a long breath.

"He had _you_, Kurt."

Kurt let himself feel shocked for only a second before he became furious.

"And how does that work?" Kurt asked. "When you spent all your time tormenting me and flirting with Blaine, trying to pull us apart?"

"I didn't want Blaine," Sebastian growled, trying to keep his temper. "I didn't want him to have you."

"But if you broke us up, I wouldn't have gone out with you anyway!" Kurt said, being the one to lose his temper first, a little confused as to what this all had to do with Sebastian having once wanted him, or becoming a male escort.

"It didn't matter anyway since you would have never given me a chance," Sebastian concluded. "Even if I was the nicest, sweetest, most charming guy in the world; even if I put the incredible Blaine Anderson to shame."

Kurt shook his head and looked down at his shoes. Silently he denied it although deep inside he knew it was the truth.

Kurt had labored under the illusion that he and Blaine were soulmates for so long; even going so far as to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was divinely favored. It had given him faith for the first time in his life that something larger, some greater purpose, might actually exist out there in the universe.

That's why Blaine's betrayal had been so devastating.

"None of this explains why you became a male escort," Kurt pointed out.

"I never fell in love like you did," Sebastian said, fidgeting with his glass again. "I never really had a serious boyfriend."

"Yeah, well, it's not all it's cracked up to be." Kurt watched Sebastian scrupulously, waiting for one of his signature barbs about Kurt's relationship with his ex, but it never came.

"_You_ can say that," Sebastian answered quietly. "You had it at least."

Kurt bit his lip. It never dawned on him that Sebastian might want to fall in love, that having a first love might mean something to him.

"I took this job," Sebastian continued, "because I thought I could capture a little bit of that, but what I do…it's just empty."

Kurt heard a high-pitched chirp, and both men reached in their pockets for their phones.

"It's mine," Sebastian said, wiggling his phone in the air. He looked at the screen and frowned.

"Would you be pissed if we cut tonight short?" Sebastian asked without looking up from his screen.

"Why?" Kurt asked agog. "Is that work? Are you seriously telling me you're going to cut our date short so you can go fuck someone else?"

Sebastian's mouth dropped.

"Uh…"

"Sebastian…" Kurt placed his hands firmly on the table in front of him and stared, stared until his own pain was visible on his face, stared until it became almost uncomfortable for Sebastian to look at him, "…why am I here?"

"Because you asked me out." Sebastian tried to recapture some of his sass, but the effort was weak.

"You said you wanted me. You dropped that little nugget of information on me last night, and then you left. You _kissed_ me like you needed me, and you left. Why? Why even tell me? Do you even want to try having a relationship with me, or is this just another stupid game?"

Sebastian at least had the decency to look properly ashamed.

"I did," he said. "I do. I would, it's just…"

"Just what?"

"Kurt…" Sebastian couldn't meet Kurt's gaze this time, "you become addicted to empty when it's all you've ever had. What if we don't work out?"

"You're such a fucking hypocrite," Kurt laughed cruelly, pushing away from the table and standing. "You tell me you turned into _this_ because I would have never given you a chance, and now you won't give _me_ one."

Kurt had half expected it, but he didn't think it would bother him so much. He didn't really assume that he would start a relationship with Sebastian tonight, but now he felt like he was losing his only chance at one.

"If you're really serious about wanting to give this a shot…about wanting to give us a shot, then I can't be worried about competing with nameless, faceless strangers. I don't want dates together and evenings alone to end like this." Kurt gestured vaguely around them. "I need to be your one and only."

The blank look on Sebastian's face wasn't too encouraging.

Kurt sighed. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Sebastian watched as Kurt pulled out a bill and placed it on the table beside his cup overflowing with club soda now that the ice had melted.

"Thanks for meeting me," Kurt said, staring down at his shoes to avoid looking at Sebastian's vacant expression. Kurt paused, hopeful, bordering on sitting back down and trying again, but he realized that Sebastian wasn't going to make a move to stop him, so he turned and left.

Sebastian watched Kurt push past a few other patrons and walk out the door.

He watched Kurt leave, and he didn't do a thing to stop him.

* * *

Kurt felt stupid. Monumentally stupid. He didn't know what exactly he expected from Sebastian Smythe. A dozen red roses? An admission of undying love? Another deep, long awaited, toe-curling kiss?

Those over the top expressions of love were Blaine's forte, but Sebastian wasn't Blaine.

And there was a reason Kurt and Blaine didn't last.

Sebastian's passionate admission that he'd wanted to make love to Kurt the night before was worth all of Blaine's showy, over-the-top proposals.

But that didn't mean that Kurt and Sebastian had a shot simply because Sebastian wasn't Blaine.

Sebastian was his own special type of asshole, and Kurt was better off without him.

Right?

Maybe, but Kurt was tired of being alone. He had allowed himself to imagine himself in a relationship with Sebastian, and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted it; not just to fill a hole that he had left gaping for so long. He wanted to know Sebastian on a deeper level than just superficial taunts and jabs. He had pictured him and Sebastian together, learning to know each other, discussing their secrets, finding out the things they had in common, because a secret part of him had always wondered how things might have been different if he had met Sebastian the time he went to spy at Dalton instead of Blaine.

Kurt heard a knock on the door and he hurried to open it. He had called Chandler on the way back to his apartment and asked him to come over to help him polish off the rest of the tequila and a cheesecake he made earlier. Kurt had run into Chandler in Manhattan shortly after his fiasco break-up with Blaine, and after reassuring Kurt that there were no hard feelings they were able to pick up again as friends, pretty much right where they left off. Chandler was still an incurable, cheesy flirt who couldn't live without his phone which meant Kurt got a text from him at least 32 times a day. They were uplifting and sweet little messages that made the thought of growing old and dying a spinster not so bad if the two of them could manage to live in the same aging artists' retirement home, sipping mint juleps in side by side rocking chairs on the front porch, surrounded by their 17 cats, all named Brian.

Kurt groaned. Man but he put way too much thought into how he was going to spend his golden years.

Kurt threw the door open wide and was greeted by a bouquet of white roses. For the briefest second it was a daunting flashback to that fateful day when Blaine showed up on his doorstep out of the blue with a dozen red roses covering his smiling face only to admit later on that he had cheated. He grimaced. Chandler knew about that, but he probably didn't remember. Kurt would forgive him.

"They're beautiful," Kurt said gratefully, taking the bouquet in his arms. He held them to his nose and sniffed them appreciatively, smiling as he glanced up into his best friend's eyes.

Except it wasn't Chandler at his doorstep.

It was Sebastian.

"I'm sorry there are only eleven instead of twelve," Sebastian started as if Kurt had asked. "I ran into your friend in the hall. I sort of paid him off with one to get him to go away."

Kurt would have to double check that story with Chandler later and find out how Sebastian actually convinced him to leave. Ever since his painful breakup, Chandler has been very protective of Kurt, and he's also a queen diva bitch in his own right. One white rose wouldn't have been enough to shoo him away.

"Why are you here?" Kurt asked, letting his eyes drift back to the white petals of the fragrant flowers. They were so clean, so unblemished. Kurt had never seen such perfect roses before in his life. He couldn't think of which upscale florist in the city would be open at this hour that would have roses as immaculate as these. "I thought you had to work."

"About that," Sebastian inched closer, and Kurt felt an arm snake around his waist, low along his hips, drawing them close with the bouquet between them. "I just stopped by to see how you would feel about starting tonight over, except instead of going out on a date with a male escort, maybe you might consider just staying in with this unemployed bastard."

Kurt felt his heart stutter in his chest. He didn't want his whole face to light up when he started to smile, but there were just some things outside of his control.

"I think," Kurt said, extricating the bouquet from between their bodies and setting it on a small table by his front door, "that sounds like something I can do."

Sebastian smiled, wide and wolfish, and Kurt felt his body come alive, washing with heat when those devilish lips claimed his again, Sebastian's arms tightening around him and lifting him off the ground, never stopping even when he walked Kurt inside his apartment and shut the door behind them.


	50. Sorry, Have We Met?

**A/N:**_I'm going to reveal the prompt for this one at the end. Sebastian has one last night of partying left before the start of school, and he wants to find someone special to spend it with. Warnings for drug use, voyeurism, exhibitionism, use of a homophobic slur, sex, multiple partner sex (SebKadam three-way)._

Labor Day.

The last official day of summer vacation.

Correction – due to a bizarrely timed heat wave, it felt more like the last 'sweltering hot, unbearably humid, strangling in your own clothes, why did I try to leave my apartment at noon' day of New York City summer vacation; the last day before the start of fall semester, and it more than fucking sucked that Sebastian couldn't properly enjoy it. There was nothing for him to do except sit in front of the a/c, quietly recoiling at the state of his monstrously high electrical bills as he tried not to melt. Of course he could make one last ditch effort to go to the beach if he was willing to wake up at four to catch a train at six and brave three long bus rides just to arrive at the shore with about three thousand other New Yorkers and tourists in tow.

No thank you.

So he ate gelato and napped naked on sheets he stored in the fridge, waiting for the sun to set, when the real fun would begin. Living in the city with the heat trapped in by the smog didn't mean that nighttime got any cooler, but it wouldn't matter once he hit the clubs and got plenty of alcohol in his system, once the pounding music moved through him and he could find someone else to move through. The thought had him grinning like the Joker straight through sunset, stroking and fingering himself from time to time in order to take the edge off so that when confronted with temptation he wouldn't jump on the first tight ass he saw.

Dressed in form-fitting indigo jeans and a plain white tee, Sebastian knew just how irresistible he was. He didn't need to dress to the nines to get attention, especially when most of the clubs would be throwing themed raves of one sort or another, so in his casual attire he was more than prepared to get covered in bubble soap, glitter, foam, or whatever else came along. He preferred foam. The clubs were so dark and the foam got so thick that it offered the opportunity to fuck right out on the dance floor with only a few people wise to any nefarious activities.

Sebastian always let a few people watch. What was the point of working so hard on his body if he wasn't going to show it off?

If he hadn't spent so much time and money pursuing his chosen profession, he could totally see himself becoming a porn star.

Sebastian popped in a few clubs, scoping out the dance floors, searching for any prospective hook-ups. He had something special in mind and he wasn't about to settle. Not tonight. He sipped a few drinks, flirted his way through the crowds, and managed to stay relatively clean. The last club on his route before he'd have to backtrack was throwing a neon rave, supplying patrons with tubes of glow in the dark paint. A throng of painted people already occupied the dance floor, and considering the way everyone was packed in tight, Sebastian figured it would be difficult to find anyone there that would capture his interest. The group blurred together into one solid mass.

He did a single circuit around the dance floor, traveling to where the swarm of bodies converged, not expecting anything spectacular to strike his fancy; but there in the center, controlling the orgy with delectable gyrations of his hips, was the apex predator in whom lust and desire collided. Sebastian stared shamelessly, drinking in every move, every muscle, every subtle curve. This fascinating nymph seduced those gathered around him; those many admirers, male and female, who fought through the turbulent sea of dancers just to be near him. He was shirtless, his chest glistening with sweat, his exposed skin painted completely in stripes of bright color, all but his face which stayed unmarked.

Every one of the sycophants surrounding him probably realized that it would be a crime to cover up that gorgeous face.

Sebastian thought he was safe to ogle, hidden in the relative obscurity of the people crowded around the fringe, but the nymph opened his eyes and stared right at him, smiling as if he had been expecting him. His incredible eyes held power, and Sebastian knew that he would do anything, be anyone, to stay locked in them.

The man's eyes never shifted left or right, his smile widening as the look on Sebastian's face turned from awe to hunger, his mouth dropping open just a bit, tongue slowly licking parched lips. Sebastian swallowed hard. He felt that tongue travel from his lips to his neck to his nipples, and then lower, so much lower that his form fitting jeans became painful and obscene, even with the shield of his white t-shirt pulled down around his hips.

The man threw his head back and laughed. A few of his admirers joined in, and Sebastian rolled his eyes, knowing that they had no clue why they were laughing. They just knew that this infectious young man was laughing and they had to emulate him to secure the honor of being with him. He leaned down to address the mob, his eyes flicking up occasionally to make sure Sebastian stayed put. A series of faces expressing varying levels of distress turned his way, and Sebastian averted his eyes, trying not to be too obvious that their idol was exiting the dance floor because of him. But Sebastian could care less if the entire cluster of petulant young men and women ended up jumping him later since right now the sublime man with the amazing body and the magical cyan eyes was leaving his group of worshippers to talk to him.

Many hands reached out to him, but the man just brushed by them. When he reached Sebastian, he pressed their bodies together like he was greeting an old lover. He looped his arms behind Sebastian's neck, threaded fingers through his hair, touched over his face and skin as if being connected was necessary for life, for breath. Sebastian's eyes locked onto the man's mouth. His lips looked so soft, so incredibly soft…

"Did you see something you liked?" the man whispered, letting his lips travel like a spirit just above Sebastian's skin.

"Yes," Sebastian replied, his voice raw.

"Then you should take a picture," the man giggled. "It would last longer."

Sebastian didn't know what came over him. Maybe it was the man's breath brushing against his hot skin; or the way his hands couldn't seem to stop touching him, fingertips tracing over his cheeks, fingers picking through individual strands of his hair, lips so close Sebastian almost felt them kissing him. Whatever it was about him, Sebastian knew he had to move fast if he wanted him, even if he didn't know the man's name.

"If I took _you_," Sebastian asked, leaning in as close as he could to the man's elfish ear, "how long would you last?"

The man slid his body sinuously against Sebastian, undeniably hard and ready to go.

"Do you want to find out?"

Sebastian smirked, his hands finally wrapping around the man's waist, reaching down his back to cup his exceptional ass. Just feeling it, taut and supple in the palms of his hands, made Sebastian sizzle like the fuse of a Roman candle.

"Just name the place," he growled, rutting against the man who rolled his head on his shoulders and hummed contentedly while Sebastian had his way with him there in front of the bar.

"Well, I happen to have a favorite stall if you're game," Kurt murmured, not seeming to care too much whether they took this party elsewhere or not.

Sebastian didn't want to stop, and the eyes of jealous men all around them made taking this man that much more delicious.

"After you," Sebastian said, refusing to let go of the firm flesh in his hands. The man didn't move right away, leaning against Sebastian, resting his weight on his body.

"Don't you want to tell me your name," the man purred, "if you want me screaming it later?"

Sebastian moaned, fighting through that sudden fantasy to remember his name.

"It's Sebastian."

"Mmm…Sebastian…_Sebastian_…" the man hummed again, grinding against Sebastian sharply as if he found a scintillating carnal enjoyment at the sound of that name.

"What's yours, babe?" Sebastian asked, dying to know what he was going to be calling this Adonis in his dreams for the rest of his life.

"Kurt," the man said. "My name's Kurt. Abuse it at your leisure."

Kurt started walking backward through the crowd, pulling Sebastian along since he had no intention of letting this man go and risk losing him to the drooling lapdogs that hovered nearby. That didn't seem like too much of a problem since the man…Kurt…didn't want to let Sebastian go either. He was determined to touch Sebastian with every inch of skin on his body.

People cleared their path when they saw the couple coming, and Kurt led Sebastian past them all and into the bathroom. Barely through the door, Kurt pulled Sebastian close and let their lips lock together. Kurt tasted like sex on Sebastian's lips, pure and simple – salty from sweat, sweet from some sort of alcohol, and something else deep and human that had to be Kurt himself. Sebastian's hands roamed Kurt's body, but Kurt stopped him, taking one of his hands and pressing something small and hard into his palm. Sebastian barely broke the kiss to look down at the object in his hand - a little blue pill with a tiny crown imprinted on the top.

"Take that," Kurt commanded in his light lilting voice, and Sebastian did, knocking it back quickly without a single other word of explanation or coercion. Kurt grinned wickedly at his obedient new toy, pulling him by his shirt into a nearby stall and shutting the door behind them. Sebastian was grateful that this was one of the few clubs that had seat covers on their toilets.

The potent little drug didn't take its time sneaking up on him at all. It pounded into him like a freight train, fizzling in his brain, making his thoughts seem airy and careless. He wanted to touch. He wanted to be touched. He ran his hands up the man's sides to his arms, up his arms to his wrists, and then dragged his fingertips down again. The long, pale column of this man's neck begged to be licked, and Sebastian obliged, running the flat of his tongue from the hollow of his neck up to his chin.

His fingers fumbled with Kurt's fly, bunching the thick denim material in his hands, sliding it across his skin, feeling it sparkle over the palms of his hands. He had to have Kurt, had to feel him in his mouth, on his tongue. He was chasing the insane crackle that raced across his skin, and with an indescribable urgency, he needed it all right now.

Sebastian violently tugged down Kurt's jeans, pushing him into a sitting position on the lid of the toilet and quickly sinking his face over the man's crotch, swallowing his cock whole, his entire body shuddering with delight when Kurt gasped into the air and bucked up into his mouth.

The lyrical sound seemed to call to the men just outside the door. They followed it into the restroom and as if they'd been explicitly invited, opened the stall door.

"Occupied!" Sebastian growled with the man's cock still in his mouth.

"Un-unless you want to watch," Kurt offered quickly. Sebastian caught the murmur of excitement and agreement rising up around them, and Sebastian decided if his beautiful nymph wanted an audience, than Sebastian would definitely bring his A-game. Sebastian grabbed Kurt's inner thighs and spread his legs wide, settling between them as far as he could, and took Kurt's length down his throat with a single, swift swallow.

He heard Kurt's hands scramble for purchase on the stall walls.

"Holy shit!" Kurt moaned, bucking up and following the heat of Sebastian's mouth when he pulled away. Sebastian couldn't help smiling when he heard his little nymph's foul mouth.

"Oh, God, fucking yes!"

That voice – that broken, pleading song ringing in Sebastian's ears made him crazy with want for Kurt's cum down his throat. And the men watching, moaning when Kurt moaned, holding their breaths, more than likely reaching their hands into their own pants to touch themselves, imaging they were Kurt feeling Sebastian's mouth around them, made Sebastian greedy. He bobbed and sucked, pulling off his cock hard and slow before rushing in quickly again, spit sliding down Kurt's member as Sebastian started salivating at the taste of him. Kurt's fingers scratched along Sebastian's scalp, weeding their way through the thick strands of his hair, silently begging Sebastian to go faster, deeper.

From behind him a low, sustained voice murmured, "That's got to feel so good."

Sebastian took Kurt deeper; deeper than he ever believed he could go, no small feat considering Kurt's impressive length, but Sebastian silently cheered when he felt his nose brush against Kurt's carefully trimmed hair and the head of his cock nearly gagging him as it reached the back of his throat. His nails dug into Kurt's thighs, shoving them wider apart, amazed at how flexible his little nymph could be.

"Fuck him," a man from Sebastian's right groaned.

Sebastian's eyes flicked up to meet Kurt's heated gaze, an impish smile spreading across his pert lips.

"Yeah," another voice drawled in a low, rough growl, "fuck that little twink up the ass…"

Sebastian's eyes suddenly grew dark, and he scowled at the derogatory slur, but Kurt read his thoughts. He bent over and whispered, "It's okay, love. I don't mind. I want you. Do you want to fuck me?"

Sebastian's entire body warmed over when Kurt called him 'love', and he knew Kurt's wish would forever be his command.

"Is that even an honest question?" Sebastian asked, grabbing Kurt's hips and helping him to his feet. "There isn't any reason I can think of for not wanting to fuck you."

"Good," Kurt said, flushed cheeks turning ever pinker. "Great minds think alike."

Sebastian stripped off his shirt and draped it over the stall wall. He held Kurt against him, the urge to touch and feel overwhelming him. He felt Kurt's fingers undo the buckle of his jeans, but he didn't want to back away, didn't want to leave the heat of Kurt's skin, the way it seemed to meld with his own when they touched, the way their bodies flowed fluidly together. Kurt giggled as he tried to push Sebastian far enough away to slip a condom on him, eventually having to make due sight unseen. From somewhere over the stall a bottle of lube appeared, and Kurt grabbed a hold of it with a demure, "Thank you."

Kurt flipped open the lid and squeezed a generous amount into Sebastian's hand, spreading it over his fingers while Sebastian's other hand gently stroked Kurt's back, his tongue lapping lazily over his collarbone.

"Are you still with me, love?" Kurt asked, trying to look into Sebastian's eyes. Sebastian peeked up with a slight nod.

"Do you want to finger me?" Kurt whispered, not waiting for an answer when he turned in the ring of Sebastian's one-armed embrace. The idea of fingering Kurt, the thought of having his fingers, tingling with want of touch, deep inside Kurt's heat, made Sebastian come alive all over again. He didn't wait, and had he been more lucid, the speed in which he thrust his fingers into Kurt's body might have bothered him, but Kurt's gasp of pleasure and the collective moans that surrounded him turned him from a rational man into a creature of wanton lust.

In Kurt's body was a sensation of completeness that Sebastian had never known. That tiny ring of muscle formed around him, engulfed him. Kurt pushed his ass back against Sebastian's fingers, needing more of him, his hands gripping the lip of the wall, making the whole stall shake when Sebastian pushed into his body and he trembled. Kurt's face - his lips curling around silent whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw quivering – was the catalyst that broke Sebastian. He needed his cock inside Kurt. He needed it more than he needed anything else.

Sebastian didn't ask, he just took, removing his fingers and grabbing a hold of Kurt's hips, finding his entrance without any guidance, almost as if they'd done this together dozens of times. By the time he entered Kurt completely, a dozen men watched, mouths agape as he pounded Kurt's tight hole. Hands reached out to touch them – some tugged lightly at his hair, fingers ran down his spine, a hand cupped his ass. One bold man came up behind Sebastian and grabbed his hips, at first just content to ride the movements of Sebastian's undulating body. Then he started shoving Sebastian forward, fucking him into Kurt's body, moaning softly in Sebastian's ear every time Kurt whimpered. Unfamiliar lips roamed up and down the back of Sebastian's neck, humming across his skin, leaving tiny brands everywhere they touched.

"Oh, Kurt," Sebastian murmured,

"Sebastian," Kurt muttered back.

The man kissing the back of Sebastian's neck seemed happy to remain anonymous until Sebastian reached back an arm to latch onto the nape of the man's neck and pull him forward to meet his lips. They were so different from Kurt's – not quite as aggressive, but strong, and they slid against Sebastian's effortlessly, moving over his mouth as if he were reciting a poem.

"Did you drop some 'E', sweetheart?" the man uttered against Sebastian's skin. The velvety voice with the hint of the most enticing accent Sebastian had ever heard had asked him a question, and he found himself struggling to answer. He opened his eyes to meet another pair of shimmering blue eyes, but these were understated and cool like the sky, where Kurt's steely grey eyes were complicated and spellbinding.

"I think so," Sebastian panted, suddenly aware that the strong hands that held his hips left to explore the planes of his chest, toying with his nipples, marking him with indents from nails curling into his skin.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" the man asked, the question sounding deliciously dirty with his uniquely elegant voice. "I promise it will feel amazing."

Normally the answer would have been no, but there was just something about this man, something about the sensual way his voice wrapped around the words he spoke in particular that fired all of Sebastian's senses at once. He felt that voice burrowing under his skin, coursing like electricity through his veins, jumping from nerve to nerve leaving scorches in its wake. That voice washing over him made Sebastian's whole body beg for attention.

"Yes," Sebastian moaned, not stopping his relentless assault on Kurt's ass. "Yes, please, fuck me…"

"Adam," the sinful voice with what Sebastian could now determine was a distinctly British accent offered. "My name is Adam, darling."

"Adam," Sebastian repeated, letting it drip off of his tongue and over Kurt's skin as he pecked kisses along his shoulders. "Adam…Adam…"

After a while the sound tickled his head, especially when he said the names of the two men together.

"Kurt…Adam…Kurt…Adam…"

Adam didn't wait. He slipped on a condom and lubed up quickly, not wasting too much time with a lot of prepping since it was obvious that Sebastian seemed fairly open (from an afternoon spent fingering himself, but no one needed to know). Soon Sebastian's little song of bouncing both names back and forth just to hear it roll around in his head became a desperate chant as Adam slammed into him, the force barreling him forward into Kurt. Sebastian's whole body, from his heels which struggled to keep his balance, to the follicles of his hair still tingling where his dark locks were being pulled, combusted, and he didn't know how he hadn't just dissolved into a limp pile of sweat and skin and cum.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" he screamed, and the men around them groaned and cursed, some finding partners in the small crowd willing to try the same thing, others fascinated with the way Kurt's trim, narrow body braced against the wall, absorbing the force of the other two men; how Sebastian's eyes rolled in his head, or how the muscular blond man taking a place behind them wound muscular arms around the pair as he worked Sebastian open with his cock.

It didn't matter to Sebastian how it looked. It felt too amazing to be real.

Sebastian wrapped his shaking arms around Kurt's chest and let Adam fuck him, let his body push him into Kurt, let the darkness swirl behind his eyes, picking up the low lights in the bathroom and the blurring faces of the men staring at them, their voices blending together in a chorus of grunts and obscenities.

"Oh God…oh God…" his own strained voice chanted. "Oh God, Kurt…oh God, Adam…oh God…"

His mouth moved around the words but his voice disappeared, swallowed down deep by the spiraling heat rising in his body, the sensation of tight and perfect around his cock, and full inside his ass. When they met together, when he pushed as far into Kurt's hole as he could go and Adam used his body to its limit, he was blinded by the sheer ecstasy of it. Kurt's body was the tinder that lit the fire, and Adam's body was the fan that built the flame. Without Adam's strong arms around them Sebastian knew he would fall, but he couldn't. It would be a crime to break this chain. Sebastian craved more – more touch, more feel, so much skin left untouched, neglected. He wasn't going to come unless someone touched him all over, stroking over his flesh until it became maddening. He heard Adam chuckle. It rumbled through his body when Sebastian cried out in frustration from need.

"I've got you," Adam murmured, running the pads of his fingertips along his arms, down his chest, circling his hips with manicured nails, pressing his chest into Sebastian's back as he moved inside him.

Kurt had stopped trying to move a long time ago, content to lean his head back against Sebastian's shoulder and sigh contentedly. Sebastian gazed down the length of Kurt's body and saw his pale skin flushed with color from his cheeks, down his neck, over his chest and his abs, pooling down to the head of his hard cock, which he held firmly in his fist, fucking into his grip using the momentum of Sebastian's body pounding into his.

"I'm going to cum," Kurt whined, but the warning didn't come in time. His body convulsed , his cock painting the stall wall with thick white ropes of cum, his entire body bearing down, his hole tightening around Sebastian.

"Sebastian…Sebastian…" he repeated endlessly as he rode out his orgasm at the end of Sebastian's cock still driving into him.

Sebastian wrapped his hand lightly around Kurt's throat, tightening an arm around his waist, and tried to hold him steady when Kurt's knees wobbled and nearly gave out.

"I'm cumming…" Sebastian's voice failed him. There were so many things he wanted to say but the combination of the drug in his system and the aphrodisiac of fucking and being fucked in front of an audience of men struggling to reach out and touch them while they rutted or otherwise managed their own erections had him keening loudly, biting down into Kurt's shoulder, enough to sting but not enough to bruise.

It was Adam's silver-tongue that muttered the words Sebastian couldn't think of to say.

"Jesus, fuck! You guys look gorgeous together…so gorgeous when you cum…so fucking gorgeous…"

Sebastian felt Adam's hips stutter, and if he could have cum again, Sebastian would have, but he was struggling to stay upright, even in Adam's iron embrace. Sebastian eased out of Kurt's body gently, reluctantly, holding him close until he was sure the man could find his footing. He felt Adam retreat from his body, and even though the beautiful blond man hadn't necessarily been invited, Sebastian felt suddenly bereft without his body behind him.

Sebastian removed the condom from his shrinking erection, tied it off and pitched it quickly, trying to avoid some of the awkwardness that came with crashing down from such an incredible high, when common sense barges in and makes you realize all of the things that euphoria helped you forget. He cleaned himself off somewhat inefficiently with a wad of tissue, but he was eager to help Kurt before Adam got the idea to butt in and lend a hand.

But Adam kept his distance, pitching his own condom and doing up his pants, content for the moment to watch the two men he had just been with. Sebastian tore off a wad of toilet paper and handed it to Kurt, who took it with a shy smile and a quiet, "Thank you". Sebastian backed away, giving Kurt some space to breathe and gather himself back together. He spotted Adam's sky blue eyes watching them, a thoughtful expression on his face. Sebastian wanted to strike up a conversation, but what was there to say other than, "Thanks for the fuck"?

"I envy you," Adam confided, breaking the tension. "Not many men get to have him." Adam gestured with his chin over Sebastian's shoulder where Kurt was cleaning up with a wad of paper towels while several men watched. It was a little creepy the way men gravitated towards him, their eyes following his every move, but Kurt appeared nonplussed by the attention

"Have you?" Sebastian asked, and when the words left his mouth he knew they carried a tone that sounded more possessive than he was allowed.

Adam's smile widened, matching Sebastian's possessive streak.

"Not yet," he responded in his disarmingly smooth, eloquent voice.

Sebastian didn't like the overconfident way Adam said 'yet'. It left no doubt in Sebastian's mind that Adam believed wholeheartedly that someday he would get his chance with Kurt. Sebastian took it as a blatant challenge, and he couldn't help feeling like Adam might have the upper hand considering the position they had just been in. Sebastian usually didn't mind competition. He had never had a relationship with anyone that lasted longer than two weeks, and he was foolish to believe that anything between him and Kurt could be different. Still, Sebastian wanted to hate Adam, but without warning Adam leaned in and kissed him on the lips sweetly, an attempt to cool Sebastian's obvious ire.

"Don't be angry, sweetheart," Adam whispered over Sebastian's mouth. "He's yours for now, so enjoy him."

Adam pinched Sebastian's chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, staring with a strange, unexpectedly significant meaning in his eyes. His gaze flicked past Sebastian to peek at Kurt who peered at the two of them curiously.

"I'll see you around," Adam said, letting the hand that cupped Sebastian's chin trail down his neck to his chest, and rest over his heart. He walked backward to the bathroom door and disappeared out into the crowded club.

"I'm next," an eager onlooker called, but Kurt shook his head, stepping into Sebastian's arms, which Sebastian raised reflexively, protectively to surround Kurt's body.

"Not tonight, gentlemen," he announced loudly the way an usher might announce the cancellation of a performance, receiving more than a few disappointed retorts. He looked into Sebastian's blown eyes and smiled. "I think I'm going to continue this someplace private."

Kurt rose up an inch on his toes and spoke directly into Sebastian's ear.

"You live near here?" he asked, and Sebastian's heart stopped.

He was taking this beautiful nymph home.

* * *

Kurt wasted no time dragging Sebastian out of the bathroom with his jeans mostly unbuttoned and made a beeline for the bar. He retrieved his t-shirt from the bartender (Sebastian assumed Kurt came to this place a lot if this nearly 300-lb bruiser of a man was willing to hold on to Kurt's clothes for him) and tossed it on quickly, grabbing Sebastian's hand and leading him to the front door of the club. Several men tried to persuade Kurt to stay, but he ignored them, treating them as mere obstacles blocking his path; Sebastian wondered how long before he was just another man trailing after Kurt, begging him to stay.

The evening air had gotten a touch cooler, and Sebastian gladly embraced the chill. It cleared his head; made it easier to think.

"So, we're going to your place," Kurt said; a statement, not a question.

Sebastian gestured with his arm and made a small, perfunctory bow that had Kurt rolling his eyes and laughing. They walked side by side, hand in hand in silence until they were out of earshot of the pounding music of the nightclub.

"What did you think of Adam?" Kurt asked, and even though the question sounded conversational, Sebastian had a feeling there might be a little more behind it; something more along the lines of, _'Which did you like better? Fucking me, or being fucked by him?'_

It was a tad adolescent, but extremely endearing.

"He was pretty cool," Sebastian said, being intentionally vague. Kurt seemed like the kind of young man people fell all over themselves to get to notice them. Sebastian wanted Kurt to chase after _him _for a while.

"Well, he's there pretty much all the time if you're ever up for a round two."

"Yeah, well…" Sebastian hedged, kicking at a stone in his way, "he wants _you_."

"I know," Kurt said, tilting his head to eye Sebastian with a crooked smile, "but he's not really my type."

"Oh yeah?" Sebastian returned the look, returned the smile. "What is your type?"

Kurt shrugged, biting his lip coyly.

"Stick around and maybe you'll find out."

* * *

Sebastian unlocked his apartment door and Kurt grabbed the knob, turning it and breezing in as if he owned the place. Only a foot through the door, he began undressing, kicking off his boots and tossing his clothes carelessly on the floor as he walked through the living room.

"This is a great place," Kurt said, giving the apartment a cursory glance before fixing his eyes on a pleasantly stunned Sebastian. Completely naked except for the body paint that dried on his well-defined chest along with some darker marks that Sebastian hadn't noticed (tattoos maybe?), his creamy skin glowed in the rays of moonlight streaming in the through the partially askew blind slats on the windows. He returned to the spot where Sebastian stood just inside the open door. Kurt closed the door and locked it, then started removing Sebastian's clothes.

"So what do you want to do?" Sebastian asked, curving his hands to mold Kurt's hips, sliding his palms over his silken skin, letting them travel over the subtle curves of his ass.

"Well, I want to take a shower…with you…" Kurt pulled Sebastian's shirt up over his arms and head, spinning it around over his head like a burlesque stripper, and then let it fly into the corner of the dark room. "Then we're going to flip-fuck…" He reached for the button of Sebastian's jeans. "…and if you're a good boy I'll let you lick all my tattoos. I don't think you got a good enough look at the one that gets longer when I get excited."

Sebastian had to say he was a little fuzzy about a good portion of the evening when he woke up to his alarm at 8:30 in the morning. He had hoped he would wake up wrapped in the arms of his gorgeous nymph, but alas he was alone, and bordering on being dangerously late for his first day of school.

Sebastian looked and felt like a train wreck. His head pounded, his throat burned, and muscles in his body he had never used before ached, but the only regrets he had about the night before is that he never got Kurt's phone number. He didn't even know the man's last name. Sebastian already knew without having to admit it to himself that he would be scoping clubs all over midtown every night until he found Kurt and persuaded the pale beauty to be his.

Sebastian's haphazard and unshaven (though he preferred to think of it as roguish) appearance would have to do since he didn't have time to properly shave and he somehow managed to forget to pick up most of his clothes from the cleaners. He had the route from his apartment to school via subway mapped down to the second, but as he was already working with borrowed time, he splurged for a taxi. With all the factors fighting against him – a plethora of one-way streets, lights he couldn't time, traffic, and a driver who spoke mostly Kurdish – Sebastian made it to the NYU campus in record time.

Sebastian fought through the crowd of students waiting outside the lecture room door, thankful that he was miraculously ten minutes early (thought he was shooting for thirty, but tomorrow was another day). He watched his first ever _Intro to 19th Century Literature_ class file in while he stood behind the safety of his desk. He wasn't really nervous. He had shadowed another professor for over a year, helped develop lesson plans, he even taught a few classes. When he first decided to become a teacher, he planned on working at a private high school, but the opportunity to be a professor at NYU, as daunting as it seemed, was just too good to pass up.

Sebastian got plenty of flirty smiles and sidelong glances from the gaggle of moony eyed girls and even a handful of equally moony eyed boys, but Sebastian's sole focus was getting through the day so he could hit the nightclub scene and track down his mysterious lover.

The last few students dribbled in and Sebastian took a deep, cleansing breath, about to address his class when a very familiar, very welcome sight crossed his line of sight. Sebastian hoped it was him, prayed it was him, was willing to sacrifice numerous future children if it would just be him.

He recognized his hips first, how the denim of his red-dyed jeans clung to them, leaving precious little to the imagination. But Sebastian didn't need to imagine the gorgeous body that hid beneath his clothes. His tongue still held the memory of licking every inch of those hips, and if his hazy memory served in any small way, Sebastian knew there should be a purple bruise tucked beneath the fabric above his left thigh.

"Kurt?"

The young man walked off just a few more steps before turning and fixing Sebastian with his magical, blue-grey eyes. He cocked his head, batting his eyelashes like a coquette who knew way more than she was telling.

"I'm sorry," that high lilting voice sang, "have we met?"

Kurt grinned and winked, then turned on his heel, walking up the aisle of stairs and taking a seat in the middle of the lecture room. Sebastian was amazed at how put together Kurt looked, as if he got a full eight hours of sleep and then walked into the classroom off the fashion runway in his designer Paul Smith button down shirt and scarf.

Meanwhile, after downing three bottles of Aquafina, Sebastian still felt like he had slept on the floor of a movie theater.

The hour crawled by slowly in the lecture room. Sebastian tried to stick to his prepared material, only fumbling twice when Kurt crossed and uncrossed his legs, deliberately running one long limb over the other, spreading his legs wide, and then crossing them again. Sebastian remembered spreading his legs for him and sinking down between them, and for a second he licked his lips, his hands flexing in the air, a single modifier left hanging in the air while the class waited for him to continue. He pressed on successfully, speaking animatedly about Bronte and Shelley, quoting from the classics of the era, every eye watching his every move, but the only person whose face he saw clearly was Kurt's.

Sebastian looked down at his Louis Vuitton watch for the nineteenth time, cheering in his head when he noticed that the class hour was finally over.

"Class dismissed," he announced, sounding more triumphant than probably any other professor in history ever had on the first day of school, and the roomful of students tittered. Sebastian kept his eyes locked on Kurt, chanting in his head, _'Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave…'_

_Don't run away without a good-bye._

_Don't get lost in the crowd._

_Don't walk out of my life so quickly again._

Sebastian clapped his hands together hard to get everyone's attention.

"So, for those of you in need of work experience credits, I'm looking for a T.A. this semester. There's only one spot available. The sign-up sheet is at my desk."

Sebastian tapped a white legal pad at the corner of his desk with his index and middle finger, and the students quickly grabbed their things and converged on that spot. Practically the whole class lined up to sign their name on the sheet, but Sebastian cared about only one person – the one still seated at his desk, reading through the course material, his eyes glued to the syllabus as if it were the most interesting read in the world; but the mischievous grin that twisted his lips told Sebastian otherwise.

The last of the nameless, arbitrary students left before Kurt stood from his seat and sauntered down the steps towards Sebastian's desk, gazing at the dazed professor through long lashes.

"So, what exactly does a T.A. do?" Kurt asked, sliding a brand new ballpoint pen from an open box on the desk and fondling it with his fingers, deftly twirling it from knuckle to knuckle.

"Uh…well," Sebastian stuttered, watching the movement, mesmerized by it, calculating how much trouble he would get into for tearing off Kurt's clothes and taking him right here at his desk.

"Well, you would help me grade papers," Sebastian started, gasping when Kurt stopped twirling the pen in his fingers and nibbled on the cap instead. "A-and put together lesson plans…"

"Hmm," Kurt said thoughtfully, "that sounds like a lot of work…maybe a lot of late hours… spent _here_?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer to his question.

"Probably at my place," Sebastian confirmed smoothly. Kurt nodded, smiling wide so Sebastian could see the cap of the pen caught between perfect white teeth.

"I see," Kurt said. He looked down at the paper covered in sloppy signatures and frowned cutely. "Oh, but your sign-up sheet seems to be full. There's no space for me to write my name."

Without even glancing down at it, Sebastian tore the sing-up sheet off the pad, crumpled it in his hand, and tossed it in a nearby trash can. Kurt giggled and Sebastian smirked, pushing the pad with a clean top sheet of paper across the desk towards Kurt.

"It seems you are mistaken, young man," Sebastian said, tapping on the pad with his index finger. "It seems that not a single one of your classmates signed up."

Kurt shook his head and bent over the notepad on the desk. He neatly wrote his name, taking his time with every letter, following that with his phone number and email address. Sebastian looked over Kurt's arm as he wrote.

"Kurt Hummel," Sebastian read. "Well, Mr. Hummel, it looks like you just became my new T. A."

"Good," Kurt said, biting his lip. "I'm looking forward to it."

* * *

_The prompt for this was teacher!Seb and student!Kurt_


	51. Decisions

**A/N:** _Written for Kurtbastian Week 2014 Day 1. Summary: Kurt has to make a choice between something he thought he always wanted, and something he never realized he already had. Rating: M._

_Knock knock knock._

"Kurt? Can I talk to you?"

Kurt's eyes snapped open at the buttery voice that called his name.

"Uh…" Kurt squeaked, his heart pounding uncomfortably while his brain tried to decide what to say.

"Look…" Blaine foraged ahead, afraid that if he didn't say what he came to say he'd lose his nerve. "I'm not really good at this, so I'm just going to come out and say it…"

Kurt swallowed hard, staring at his locked door, knowing that the dapper young man with the honey-gold eyes that he had been in love with since he first walked through the doors of Dalton Academy stood just outside.

"You're my best friend, and I'm so blind…so stupid for not realizing you had feelings for me…"

Kurt grabbed at the cushion to the chair he sat on, his fingernails scraping along the frame, his palms sweating.

"…and I'm sorry it took this long for me to come around…" Blaine continued, even though so far he was getting no feedback, no encouragement.

Kurt rolled his eyes and huffed.

_'Long?'_ he thought. _'It's been five months! Five months of pining and waiting, of flirty duets and all night phone calls. How much longer did Blaine think he was going to sit around and wait?'_

"But if you're still willing to give me a chance, I'd really like to take it."

Kurt was dumbfounded. Why? Why did he have to come to his door with this confession now? Wasn't this what Kurt had always wanted to hear? But now…

He fought with the words he wanted to say, his whole body tingling.

God, was he trembling?

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice said softly, and Kurt caught the note of disappointment in it.

Blaine sighed. It was a long, heavy sound.

"I guess I'll see you at Warbler practice." Kurt heard Blaine's hand slide down the wooden door, and then his footsteps as he walked away.

Kurt's body shook. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.

"Are you going to tell him about us?" a silky, breathless voice whispered quietly from where its owner knelt on the floor between Kurt's legs. Kurt looked down at the devilish smirk and the sparkling green eyes staring up at him. Kurt smiled.

"Are you ever going to be done?" Kurt growled, grabbing a fistful of Sebastian's chocolate-brown hair and shoving his grinning face back down into his lap. The warmth of his mouth surrounded his cock again, and this time Kurt moaned a little louder.

_Five months_. Five amazing months of taunts and jabs and insults tempered with secret rendez-vous's and stolen kisses. Blaine might have been stupid not to see how much Kurt was crushing on him, but Kurt was a complete and utter moron not to realize that every time Blaine turned an oblivious eye to Kurt's admittedly sad attempts at flirting, that it was Sebastian Smythe and his acerbic tongue always there to soothe the sting.

Kurt just didn't notice until recently.

"D-do you want me to tell him?" Kurt asked, his hips moving slightly to keep up with Sebastian's relentless mouth.

Kurt eyed the boy working over him, waiting for a reply. Sebastian shrugged.

"Do what you want, babe," came his muffled reply.

Kurt didn't like that. He never liked to sound of indecision in Sebastian's voice; not Sebastian Smythe, the boy who knew what he wanted and went after it. Kurt grabbed Sebastian's shoulders and pulled him off his cock, whining at the loss of heat and that wickedly talented tongue.

"I want to know what _you_ want," Kurt said firmly, locking his blue eyes on to Sebastian's lust-blown ones.

Sebastian shrugged again, but his sheepish grin grew wider.

"It might be nice to bring this relationship out of the closet," he said. "At least we'd get less annoying surprise visits like that last one."

Kurt chuckled.

"Alright," Kurt agreed. "Then at Warbler practice?"

Sebastian nodded.

"Yeah…I mean, this is going to cut severely into my dating scene…"

Kurt smacked him on the arm…or tried, but Sebastian intercepted the hand swinging towards him and planted an open-mouthed kiss on Kurt's wrist.

"Great, but that's not for another hour." Kurt grabbed another fistful of Sebastian's hair and once again shoved the boy's head back in his lap. "So get back to work, because you're still not done."


	52. The Idea of You

**A/N:** _Written for Kurtbastian Week 2014 Day 1. Summary: Kurt finds someones owner. Rating: R __(For language and mention of sexual situations)_

Without a doubt the library at Dalton had to be Kurt's favorite place in the whole antiquated building. It was quite simply a huge room constructed of honey-colored wood with towering bookcases crammed full of books, mostly classic novels with rich leather covers and gold embossed spines. It was a quiet sanctuary that looked like it could have come straight from the pages of a Jane Austen novel. The room from floor to ceiling smelled of age and virtue and wisdom. Kurt could be found there before and after school, even on his lunch break. He often got lost in those stacks for hours.

For a long time he thought the music room where they held Warbler rehearsal should be his favorite, but it was pretty much just a reminder of how the Warblers, at heart, were a group of young men who didn't seem to appreciate his uniqueness and originality. Besides, they already had their star in the form of Blaine Anderson, their goblin king. Kurt smirked. He knew he shouldn't think that way about his boyfriend, but sometimes he just couldn't help himself. Blaine had told him that the students of Dalton all wore uniforms because they were a group, with no one person shining out more than anyone else…that is unless you're Blaine, apparently.

_Ugh_. Kurt felt so conflicted. He didn't want to be jealous, but, there you go. He was.

Kurt tried not to think about; tried to let the tension diffuse through his fingers and into the books he ran them over. He pretty much knew the order of the books by heart without having to look at the titles.

_'The Count of Monte Cristo…Just So Stories…A Christmas Carole…'_

Kurt smiled. He didn't actually understand the system Dalton used to organize their books. It really made no sense.

_'A Tale of Two Cities…'_

His fingers fell in a space right where _Crime and Punishment_ should be.

Kurt looked at the shelf where his fingertips rested on a worn leather journal he had never seen before. He looked around for the librarian, but she was nowhere to be seen. He pulled the book down slowly, expecting at any second that someone would come over and claim the misplaced book, but none of the other students around him seemed to notice. He held the book in his hands, painfully curious, dying to crack the well-worn spine, but he hesitated. It looked like a personal journal…maybe even a diary.

But if it was, why would it be stuck here on the shelf?

It looked expensive. The soft leather cover alone was probably worth a few hundred dollars. Whoever this book belonged to must be looking everywhere for it. He could just turn it in at the front desk, but there was no guarantee the book would find its owner shoved in among countless forgotten sweatshirts, sunglasses and cell phones. No, he had a duty to this gorgeous journal since he had been the one to find it.

He would just open the front cover and look for a name.

He opened the book reverently to the inside cover, and then the first page, but there was no name to be seen. He flipped through the pages of perfect, neatly written script, and sighed as his eyes swept over the fluid, expressive handwriting. Kurt always felt you could tell so much about a person by how they wrote, the way they dotted their 'I's and crossed their 't's, whether the words lifted at the ends, or stuck down in the line they were written on.

Kurt's own handwriting was almost calligraphic.

Blaine sort of wrote like an over-enthusiastic fifth grader.

Without meaning to, his eyes stopped on a page with a four line passage…a poem…and he read…

_"In his eyes_

_Ice and fire meet_

_And when I see them, my tongue is struck dumb _

_Every…single…time…"_

Kurt held his breath. A poem. A _love_ poem.

Another boy in this very school – another _gay_ boy – who wrote love poems.

Oh dear spaghetti monster in the sky!

Kurt flipped to another page, another poem.

_"How stupid…how childish…how truly masochistic to love someone you'll never have…_

_At least I can love the idea of him…"_

Oh…_unrequited_ love. Even better.

Kurt closed the journal and held it to his chest protectively, feeling a little paranoid as he escaped to his special corner of the library. His chest ached with guilt at reading someone else's private thoughts of love, especially a love that might never be fulfilled, but he needed to see this through. He needed to follow the clues and find out who this was…

…and maybe, just maybe, he could bring these two lovers together.

On and on he read, page by page, captivated. He almost heard a voice reading the words to him in his head.

_"He deserves roses, and I am no more than a thorn, and I keep pricking at him, aggravating him, filling him with hate for me…_

_…because if I can't have his love, I'll take his hate if that might turn his azure eyes on me…"_

Azure eyes, Kurt mulled. Azure means blue. Blue eyes. So the love of this boy's life had blue eyes.

He smiled.

_"He sings like angels and like sirens,_

_It calls to my heart and to my blood,_

_I would woo him,_

_I would love him,_

_I would set him on fire,_

_And I would tell him so,_

_But at five o'clock I'm there staring in at the door,_

_I cannot approach him, _

_I cannot touch him,_

_All I can do is wait another day…"_

He sings…at five o'clock every day he sings…_holy shit!_

Kurt bounced on the floor where he sat, feeling a little giddy.

Every day at five o'clock!

He's a Warbler. Whoever wrote this book is in love with a Warbler.

Kurt couldn't remember ever seeing someone hanging around the doorway peeking in on their rehearsals…not that he ever paid much attention. Today he would. Kurt tried to remember who in the Warblers besides him had blue eyes. He bit his lip. He would need to find some stealthy way to check.

The longer he read, an unexpected side effect seemed to overwhelm him. He was falling in love; falling in love with the words in this book, and the anonymous author roaming the halls of school. He knew it was irrational. He knew it was unreasonable, especially since he had a boyfriend who, for all intents and purposes, was sweet and kind and devoted, who serenaded him with cheesy love songs and texted him meaningful song lyrics.

But those were other people's words.

Whoever this book belonged to, these words belonged to them, came from their heart…

…and were meant for someone else.

Kurt swallowed hard and sighed.

The time for fantasies and dreams was over.

With a heavy heart he closed the book and stood from his hiding place. He would turn it in at the front desk and pray every day that the proper owner found it, and in his head he could put the fairy tale to rest.

Some very special, amazing man in this school was missing out on true love.

He emerged from the stacks and ran headlong into a frazzled looking Nick Duval.

"Hey, Nick," Kurt said, trying to sound more carefree than he felt.

"Hey, Kurt," Nick answered back, but then his hazel eyes fell on the book in Kurt's arms and his entire body relaxed. "Oh thank heavens," he sighed, pulling the leather journal from Kurt's folded arms. Kurt felt a cryptic loss the minute the book left his arms. "I've been looking for this everywhere."

"Oh, well…there it is," Kurt said lamely. "I found it on the bookshelf. I was about to turn it in."

"Then it's a good thing I found you first," Nick sighed, his relief palpable, and in a small measure it cheered Kurt up.

But suddenly there was another problem.

A couple of them actually.

Kurt was certain, positive actually, that Nick was head over heels for Jeff Sterling, but Jeff had _brown_ eyes.

So, who was the mysterious stranger Nick had been writing about?

And probably more daunting, was Kurt actually in love with Nick Duval?

No, he thought, giving himself a mental shake. Nick was one of his closest friends. He couldn't be. That would be too weird for words.

He definitely wasn't in love with Nick Duval, though the sudden inexplicable feeling of heartbreak settling in his chest would beg to differ.

"Well, I've got to get going," Nick said, slightly perturbed by his friend's daydream expression.

"Yeah, sure." Kurt watched Nick retreat, wondering if he shouldn't just confront him, if for no other reason than to ask who the blue-eyed siren was that Nick had fallen in love with.

Common sense kicked in, and Kurt decided to wait. He watched Nick walk out of the library, turning around once to wave at Kurt, still looking slightly confused.

There were too many overwhelming questions, too many riddles.

Kurt couldn't just fall in love with someone from reading their journal. That's impossible. Even if it _was_ possible, this is apparently Nick Duval. Nicky. Kurt refused to fall in love with Nick.

What about Blaine?

They had passed the simple handholding stage a long time ago, but they hadn't gone much further than heated make-outs and a few awkward hand-jobs. Not much that went on between them curled Kurt's toes anymore, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to make that feeling come back.

It might if Blaine said he would _set him on fire_…

Kurt had started walking without taking much notice, his body moving on autopilot out the heavy double doors. He heard laughter coming from the far end of the hall, and when he turned the corner his heart froze in his chest. Nick stood with his head bowed, his face a strange mask of discomfort and distress while Sebastian and Hunter cackled like the hyenas they were, and in Sebastian's hands, open to some arbitrary page, was the leather journal. Kurt felt heat rise to his cheeks, burning through the ice that kept him rooted to the spot where he stood. He barreled down the hallway, unsure exactly of his next move, with his eyes fixed on that beautiful book, spurred on by everything it held, everything it must mean to Nick…everything it had come to mean to _him_.

He caught Sebastian off-guard and snatched the book away, holding it to his chest with his arms crossed over it. All three boys stared at him in surprise, but Sebastian's cheeks in particular started to grow pink.

"What the fuck, princess?" Sebastian growled.

"Those are _his_ thoughts, and feelings, and words, and you don't get to take them! You don't get to exploit them for your cruelty! You don't get to make fun of him for it!"

"You…you read it?" Sebastian stuttered, and the color seemed to drain from his face.

"N-not intentionally…" Kurt stammered, unsure why he was still talking about this with Sebastian when he should just turn the journal back over to Nick. "I found it in the library. I thought it was just a book…and why am I still talking about this with you?"

"Kurt," Nick intervened, putting a hand on Kurt's shoulder and squeezing gently, "that journal isn't mine. It belongs to Sebastian."

Kurt almost dropped it. His eyes shifted from face to face around him. Nick looked sympathetic. Hunter looked way too amused. Sebastian's expression was blank.

"But I thought…no! No, it can't! It's not…"

Kurt looked down at the worn leather book filled with beautiful poems, random thoughts, and passionate essays on life and indecision…and love. He felt betrayed. He felt his soul break. He saw himself falling in love with the boy who wrote this book.

But Sebastian?

Why did it have to be Sebastian?

Sebastian, the meerkat-faced asshole?

Sebastian, the bane of his existence, who hovered and lurked, always with some insult, always with some evil taunt…

Sebastian, the constant thorn in his side…

Thorn…

_Oh no…oh God no…_

Kurt's hands shook as he turned the journal over to its owner, and then without another word he shot back down the hall, his cheeks on fire, his heart in his throat, his knees so weak they barely carried him, the blood rushing in his ears so loudly he didn't hear Sebastian call out to him, or the sound of his footsteps when he started after him down the hall.


	53. My Moonlight

**A/N:** _Just so you guys know, due to popular demand 'The Idea of You' will have a second and third part. But for now I am foraging on ahead. Written for Kurtbastian Week 2014 Day 3. Summary: This is a Buffy the Vampire Slayer inspired AU focusing on Willow and Oz's storyline. Rating: R (For language, supernatural violence, and talk of sexual situations)_

The soft dirt and peat gave Kurt no traction whatsoever as his feet pounded into the ground. He dodged the headstones, gleaming white marble glowing eerily in the moonlight, reflecting off his own alabaster skin and making him look like a specter himself. The sound of sinister heavy breathing filled his ears and he knew the monster was close. He didn't need to hear it though. He had performed this dance numerous full moons before. He could feel the animal in his blood. It moved when he moved, dodged when he dodged, followed his prints in the ground step for step, matching his pace.

The animal toyed with him, but Kurt was in complete control.

Kurt veered right and his foot sank ankle deep in a patch of fresh manure.

"Ugh!" Kurt groaned, stopping a moment to yank his foot free with a sickening slurp. "No! My vintage powder blue Converse!"

Kurt threw an angry glare over his shoulder.

"You asshole!" he bellowed, but started off again so that the creature wouldn't gain too much ground. In the dark, where the creature pursued Kurt in the low light and the shadows, Kurt swore he heard a deep, menacing chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh now," Kurt mumbled as he reached beneath his jacket and grabbed the gun he had thrust in his waistband. "You're not going to be laughing in a minute."

Kurt loaded the weapon with practiced ease; a skill known by a handful of the high school students in town.

Most of the Glee Club were mages, monster hunters, keeping the night safe for the small town of Lima, and it was Kurt's duty to serve and protect.

This creature, the one that pursued him tirelessly through the cemetery, was Kurt's responsibility and Kurt's alone.

Kurt hurdled over a larger stone and heard more groans and breathless pants. He stopped short and looked over at one of the far graves where two half-dressed teenagers were going at it, locked together and moaning into the night.

"Oh…just…yuck!" Kurt grimaced, waving his hands in front of his face to try and dispel the image. "What's wrong with you people?"

Kurt sighed. Now he'd have to wait and make sure that the animal didn't go after the lovers instead of him. He tried to school his breathing, keep himself calm and clear his head. Once the animal saw him and he got its undivided attention, Kurt would need to work quickly. He glanced behind him to gauge how far his destination was in relation to where he stood, and when he turned back, the creature emerged from the tree line. Kurt smirked, always impressed by the size and stature of the monster, its silky brown hair glistening in the moonlight, its expressive green eyes searching him out.

The lovers didn't notice him, wrapped up in their own little world, but the werewolf saw them, turning on them with the shadow of a grin on his snarling lips.

Kurt pulled out the strongest weapon he had in his arsenal against this gigantic werewolf. He bent his head back and howled at the moon. It worked instantaneously. The creature's head snapped back to stare at him, eyes wide, green irises pushed aside as definite lust overtook them. Kurt spun around and ran knowing the creature was right on his heels, his hot breath steaming out the wrinkles in his jeans.

Kurt dodged razor-sharp claws twice, but tripped and fell in somersaults down the mausoleum stairs. His head knocked on the decaying stone steps, his brain spinning in his skull, he had enough wherewithal to roll into the open cage that had been constructed just for this purpose.

"Stay out of sight!" he called to the blonde cheerleader he knew hid in the shadows. Kurt heard the slight scuffling that told him Brittany heard him. A second of silence was all they got before the hulking beast made its way down the steps. Kurt fought impending delirium to stay awake just a little longer.

Kurt snuffled and whimpered, the sound of a wounded werewolf, and the creature followed the sound of distress to the cage where he lay. Kurt waited until the monster loomed above him, teeth dripping saliva all over the dusty floor.

"Sorry, babe," Kurt said, raising the gun and shooting the creature in the leg.

The beast reared back and roared, but the tranquilizer worked fast, and he fell to the ground, limbs pawing through the air in an attempt to get up.

"Brittany," Kurt commanded softly. "Get out…"

"But, Kurt," the bubbly young woman bounced out from her hiding space, her eyes sweeping back and forth between her friend and the werewolf, still lethal even though it couldn't get back up on its haunches.

"I said get out," Kurt growled. "And lock the gate."

Brittany didn't want to go. Kurt took too many chances. But she wasn't going to argue. She climbed out of the mausoleum with one backward glance, and locked the gate behind her.

Thin tendrils of morning sunlight lit the inside of the mausoleum, and even though he should probably have a concussion, mage strength had its perks, and Kurt woke with just a pounding headache. He looked at the arms wrapped around him, the naked body curled against him, and smiled. Wary green eyes looked down into his, and the boy in his arms offered a weak smile.

"You had me worried," the boy said, kissing him gently on the forehead, trying hard not to jostle his lover too much. "I thought this time you weren't going to wake up."

"Well, it takes a helluva lot more than a knock to the head to kill me, Bas," Kurt smirked. "I should know. You've tried. And by the way…" Kurt lifted his leg to reveal his ruined shoe.

"Oh, fuck, Kurt," Sebastian moaned. "I'm sorry. I'll get you a new pair. I promise. But do you have to wear your best pair of shoes every time you go out at night?"

"We were supposed to be on a date, remember?" Kurt chided, pinching Sebastian on the arm. "Why didn't you take your potions? You know they're the only way to stop the change."

"I did take them," Sebastian admitted softly. "I don't think they work anymore."

"Obviously," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes. He expected some other taunt or tease, and when none came, Kurt shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Bas. We'll just go to Ms. Pillsbury and tell her you need a stronger one."

Sebastian held Kurt tight and sighed, and Kurt could hear the gears working in his boyfriend's head.

"Tell me," Kurt commanded.

"I…I think maybe I should go away…"

Kurt shook his head and held Sebastian closer. They'd had this talk before. They'd probably have it again.

"Sebastian," Kurt said, trying to prop up on his arms and look into his boyfriend's eyes, succeeding only in resting his head on the boy's bare chest. "Why do you come to me when I call? Even with all of our mages, some much stronger than me, why do you come to _me_?"

Sebastian's whole expression changed, his eyes darting sheepishly away.

"Because you're my mate."

"That's right," Kurt said. "And you're mine. Someday we'll figure out a solution to this, I promise, and if we don't…"

"Don't say it," Sebastian interrupted quickly, but Kurt would have none of that.

"You'll turn me, and I'll become like you," Kurt said finally. Sebastian hated the idea of Kurt becoming a werewolf, not just because he would be a bloodthirsty killer, stalked and hunted, but because becoming a werewolf would mean giving up his powers. Powers he was born with; his only legacy of his dead mother.

Kurt held Sebastian's head in his hands and turned his gaze up to meet his own. He rested their foreheads together, lips so close to kissing that the slightest motion would have them pressed together, lost in each other's heat.

"I'm never saying goodbye to you," Kurt whispered, and Sebastian smiled.

"I love it when you talk cheesy," Sebastian muttered, and attacked his powerful boyfriend, rolling him over onto his back to deepen the kiss, even when Kurt groaned.

"So, are you determined to ruin the jacket as well?" Kurt mumbled against Sebastian's lips, but he wasn't really mad…well, maybe a little, but a kiss from this gorgeous boy was well worth his dry cleaning bill.

"Oh, babe," Sebastian said softly, unbuttoning Kurt's jacket and reaching beneath his shirt with rough, callused fingers. "We have two hours until the other mages let us out. I'm determined to ruin the entire outfit by then."


	54. The Last Scion

**A/N:**_Written for Kurtbastian Week 2014 Day 3. Summary: Based loosely on a story I wrote a million years ago. Kurt is the last Scion, and Sebastian is his protector. Rated R (For talk about sex, language, supernatural elements, and loose interpretation of religious themes)_

"Kuuurrrrtttt," Sebastian's voice sang up to him from somewhere in the kitchen downstairs. Kurt smiled as he continued to fold the laundry in the master bedroom.

"Sebastian," Kurt called down without stopping his task. "I thought you were up here taking a nap."

"No, I couldn't sleep," Sebastian whined. "Come down here so we can make out."

Kurt rolled his eyes. He learned early on in their partnership that Sebastian was a constant, incurable flirt, though as more time went by Kurt started to wonder if there was something more behind the flirting. Kurt wanted there to be. God, did he want there to be, but he knew he shouldn't get his hopes up.

Kurt and Sebastian had been raised together in the same order, and had been on this mission together for over ten years. From day one, Sebastian never acted like a stereotypical priest. He always had some sort of innuendo or remark about Kurt, was never shy about openly ogling Kurt's body, talking endlessly about dreams he had about he and Kurt together intimately. Sebastian always said that when their mission was over he would make an honest man of Kurt, and it was a nice thing to daydream about. But Kurt couldn't forget – he was the last Scion. His mission was one of sacrifice. He didn't know what exactly he was expected to do, or what would happen to him afterward. What he did know is he had never met another Scion.

No one in the order even talked to Kurt about the future, about what his options were going to be when all was said and done. Kurt had begun to suspect that whatever happened at the end of their mission, he would not survive. It was a struggle as well as a journey, especially with Sebastian Smythe as his protector. For his part, Kurt had to remain pure, completely untouched for his mission to be successful. That didn't keep him from daydreaming about being naked, wrapped in the arms of his protector; spending long, lazy days simply worshipping each other.

It wasn't the same for the priests. In order for them to keep their mind focused on their jobs, they were required one moment of sexual intimacy. There was a big ceremony – a feast, music, the whole nine yards. Kurt wouldn't know. The idea of watching Sebastian making love to someone else broke his heart too much to attend. Whatever the actual purpose of the ceremony, whatever it was supposed to accomplish, it didn't seem to work on Sebastian. In fact, it seemed to make Sebastian crave sex more.

At least Sebastian was loyal. He only had eyes for Kurt.

"Come on, Kurt," Sebastian sang, his voice becoming something different; melodic and smooth with a hint of compulsion to it, "come down here and let me lick you. I promise I won't let you cum."

Kurt swallowed hard, dropping the shirt he was folding on the bed. Sebastian's personality could often times be a headache, but Kurt just saw him as one of the many challenges he had to deal with during his journey. Sebastian made no secret of his desire for Kurt and his disdain for their mission, but he'd never said anything overtly sexual like that before.

"Sebastian", Kurt chided, his voice broken and sullen, "that's not funny. You know I want to…but I can't. Don't make this harder for me than it already is."

"Kurt," Sebastian taunted in that rough, seductive voice Kurt had only dreamt about but never heard before, "come down here and let me take care of you. I'll hold you in my arms, undress you slowly…"

Kurt walked out onto the second floor landing to hear Sebastian's voice better.

"You know you want me," Sebastian continued. "You want my lips on you…you want my hands on your skin…you want me to lay you open and have my way with you…"

Kurt followed that voice, step by step, hands gripping the railing until his knuckles turned white. Sebastian's voice had a strange, undeniable edge to it. It called to Kurt, pulled him, he was helpless against it. He reached the stairs, preparing to put a foot down on the first one when arms grabbed him – one hand clamping over his mouth and another around his waist, dragging him backward into one of the darkened bedrooms. Kurt heard the door lock and turned on his attacker, shocked and confused to be staring into the familiar green eyes of his priest.

"Seb—"

"Shh," Sebastian hushed quietly. "I felt him when he materialized. He's downstairs in the kitchen."

"Why didn't he just come upstairs then?" Kurt asked, backing away from the bedroom door.

"I don't know," Sebastian admitted. "Maybe with the layers of prayers and protection spells he can't."

_Creak._

Both men turned at the sound of footsteps slowly climbing up the stairs.

"Well, fuck," Sebastian sighed. He grabbed a bottle of holy water and doused the floor right in front of the door. As an extra measure, he poured mounds of white salt in a line at the doorway, a trick he learned from the white witches.

"Get up on the bed," Sebastian commanded, and Kurt complied, though climbing up onto the bed with a half-dressed Sebastian wasn't helping the state of his lingering arousal.

_Creak._

_Creak._

"Kurt," the fake Sebastian's voice called out, and now that Kurt could hear it closer, more clearly, he felt that the veiled edge to it was dark, demonic.

Kurt wrapped his arms around his chest tightly, and Sebastian wrapped his arms around Kurt's body, ready to do anything to protect him.

The footsteps stopped in front of the door.

"Kuuuurrrtttt…come out and pla-ay…"

A black fog seeped in beneath the closed door, and from between the wood slats of the hardwood floor, all sorts of decomposers and insects appeared: centipedes, millipedes, spiders, roaches, darkling beetles clicking their thick glossy exoskeletons. Kurt shivered and curled in on himself, and Sebastian's eyes burned with hate. The fog reached the line of salt and holy water and they could hear an audible 'hisssss' fill the room, along with a groan of pain.

"Kurt," the voice morphed into something cruel, "the priest won't be around to protect you forever. I _will_ have you."

The black fog seeped out from beneath the door and filtered away, the numerous insects retreating back beneath the boards and disappearing into the dark.

Sebastian held tight to Kurt's trembling body.

"We'll have to leave now?" Kurt asked sadly. Sebastian wanted to curse out loud, lash out and punch something hard. They'd managed to stay in one place for almost a year this time, and Kurt loved this little house. For the first time in years Kurt had allowed himself to feel settled, safe. Sebastian hated having the rug pulled out from under him.

"Yes," Sebastian answered simply. "But don't worry. We'll find another house just like this one. I promise."

Kurt nodded and fell painfully still and silent.

"Don't listen to him, Kurt," Sebastian soothed. "I'll be here as long as you need me."

"As long as I need you?" Kurt whispered.

Sebastian placed a kiss into Kurt's hair. He thought of all the things the demon had said. The voice wasn't his, but the words were. Wanting to lay with Kurt, wanting to undress him, to touch him – all of those things came straight from the dream Sebastian was having when the demon appeared. He wanted Kurt. He was determined to find a way for them.

"I'm yours, Scion," Sebastian whispered with another chaste kiss. "My life, my body, my heart, my soul, will always be yours."

They laid together quietly in the dark, letting the time drip by while Sebastian made silent plans to keep Kurt safe.


	55. Glory Days

**A/N:** _Written for Kurtbastian Week 2014 Day 2. Summary: Lacrosse Captain Sebastian and Cheerio Kurt getting it on during a game. Rating: R (For sexual situations)_

Kurt rolled his eyes at the boy crawling over him, thoroughly underwhelmed.

"So, captain of the lacrosse team?" Kurt drawled. "Is that supposed to impress me enough to let you into my pants?"

"Well, it usually works that way," Sebastian said, smirking down at the unenthusiastic Cheerio with his legs locked together at the knees. "But if you're going to be such a bitch about it, maybe I'll have to find something else to impress you."

"I can't imagine what." Kurt turned his head when Sebastian leaned in to kiss him, and he attacked Kurt's neck, completely undeterred. Kurt whined softly. He couldn't help it. Kisses to the neck had always been his weakness.

"Maybe it would help if we were wearing a little less clothing," Sebastian suggested, fiddling with the hem of Kurt's uniform shirt.

"So what you're telling me is that there's something beneath that uniform of yours that's going to impress me?"

Sebastian had given up trying to match wits with Kurt, deciding instead to lure him out of his tight little uniform with more kisses to the neck, sucking gently along his jawline.

"No, no, no," Kurt said, putting a hand to Sebastian's chest and pushing him gently away. "None of that. If I get back out there with hickeys on my neck, my name's going to be mud for sure."

"Come on, Kurt," Sebastian whined. "Give me something."

Kurt leaned up and kissed him, slipping his hands beneath Sebastian's jersey and running his fingers lightly over his abs, each one so extraordinarily defined that Kurt could count them by feel alone. Sebastian's hands ran down Kurt's back, sliding beneath his tight pants. The screams of the cheerleaders and the roar of the crowd swallowed Sebastian's moan at the expanse of creamy skin and tiny undies hiding beneath the fabric.

"A thong, Kurt?" Sebastian toyed with the thin strap that slid between Kurt's pert ass cheeks.

"Well, all you're wearing underneath your pants is a jock strap," Kurt sighed, leaning back to give Sebastian more access to his neck.

"And yet you're not checking it out."

"Fuck you, I just had my nails done," Kurt smirked, and despite his protests, Sebastian sucked a dark mark right beneath his chin.

"You asshole!" Kurt barked as he pulled away. Sebastian put a hand over Kurt's mouth, giggling and looking around them.

"You don't want the rest of your precious Cheerios to find their captain on his back with a player from the other team, do you?"

As if on cue, the Cheerios cheered, and Kurt's eyes went wide. He shook his head back and forth emphatically.

"Good, now you're going to be a good little queen bee and let me go down on you," Sebastian whispered, traveling down Kurt's body and taking the top of his tight pants with him, uncovering the red thong beneath.

"A-aren't they going to need you on the field soon?" Kurt stuttered, listening for the sound of the announcer calling the second quarter of the game.

"That's J.V., babe. I'm Varsity. We still have plenty of time."

Sebastian blew hot air through the fabric of the thong, and Kurt's hips bucked up to chase the heat of his mouth.

"Oh God," Kurt groaned as Sebastian took advantage of Kurt lifting his hips to pull the thong down, his eyes glittering wickedly as he looked up at the gorgeous cheerleader beneath him. Just as Sebastian's mouth poised over Kurt's hard and waiting cock, the sound of the crowd cheering disappeared.

"God, how much longer are you two freaks going to be?" Santana droned.

Sebastian dropped his head, looking up at her silhouette through the curtain that divided Kurt's room from the living room.

"What, do you have to take a pill?" Sebastian barked.

"No, but some of us have lives, and no time to deal with your creepy dress-up fantasy."

"Look, Lopez, I'm paying you and Babette $50 to pretend to be cheerleaders for one hour so I can get it on with my boyfriend. It's only been ten minutes."

"Yeah, ten minutes of my life I'm never getting back, and by the way, no amount of scrubbing is going to get the slime of your guys' deviant sex play off my skin." Kurt flopped back onto the blanket they had laid out on the wood floor, squeezing his eyes shut. "And might I also mention, I swore when I left high school that I would never put this uniform on again."

Kurt sat up and whined at the withering state of his erection.

"First of all, Santana," he intervened, "I never heard you make such a vow."

"Well, just because you didn't hear it doesn't mean it's not true."

"Also," Kurt continued without stopping, "I've seen you _sleep_ in that thing."

"Only when Britt-Britt comes over…"

"And finally, we can't even see you, Santana. You don't _have _to wear it."

"Au contraire mon Cher," she said, and Kurt could see her shadow point thoughtfully to the ceiling, "I am an up and coming Broadway star, and as such, I need to practice my method acting."

"Understudy!" Rachel butted in from her place on the couch. "You're just the _understudy_, but I, too, must protest on the side of realism as a serious actress practicing the craft. I mean, McKinley didn't even have a lacrosse team. You two never would have met."

"Hence the point of the role play, baby Barbra," Sebastian pointed out. "How else can I bang the hottest cheerleader in McKinley High history?"

Kurt smiled shyly when Sebastian turned his lust-blown eyes back his way.

"Well, first you start by climbing down off of Lady Hummel and buying me dinner."

Kurt gasped and Sebastian pinched him on the ass.

"Look, we all know you actually have nothing better to do, Santana," Sebastian said, "and I imagine Rachel has always wanted to be a cheerleader, so why don't you guys just turn the t.v. back up and let us get to getting, okay?"

"I don't think you're hearing me," Santana protested. "If you guys want to relive your pathetic glory days that's fine, but don't involve innocent bystanders…"

"What if I give you both another $50?" Sebastian offered, moving back over his boyfriend's crotch, trying to revive his erection.

"Go! Titans! Go, go, Titans!"

Sebastian chuckled when he heard Santana smack Rachel on the arm and hiss, "Cheer, hobbit. The faster they get their rocks off, the faster I gets my hundred bucks."

Sebastian looked up at Kurt whose face had suddenly become glum.

"What is it, babe?" Sebastian climbed back up to hold his boyfriend's face in his hands and kiss the frown off his face.

"Is this really pathetic?" Kurt asked.

"Nah," Sebastian said, returning back to that spot on Kurt's neck that he knew would rouse him from his sulky mood instantly. "As long as your ass looks hot in that uniform, I'm always going to want to fuck you in it. But next time I think we'll hire new cheerleaders."


	56. Sebastian and The Last Scion

**A/N:** _Written for Kurtbastian Week 2014 Day 3. Summary: This is a second part I wrote for my Kurtbastian Week one-shot The Last Scion, by anon request, detailing 'the ceremony' and how Sebastian was chosen to be Kurt's protector. Rated R (For talk about sex, language, supernatural elements, and loose interpretation of religious themes)_

Kurt fidgeted, watching through narrow eyelids as Sebastian adjusted the collar of his ceremonial robe.

"If you're going to be naked anyway, why do they make you dress up?" Kurt groused. Sebastian turned to peek over his shoulder with a smirk, more sheepish than condescending.

"Actually, I'm not wearing anything beneath the robe," he commented.

_'Oh,'_ Kurt mouthed, turning his back on his friend.

"Look," Sebastian came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his chest, trying hard not to press his body against Kurt's and make him any more uncomfortable. "This is just a technicality. It doesn't mean anything. It will be over and done with, and then I'll come back here and we can watch a movie or something."

"Can we watch _Moulin Rouge_?" Kurt asked quietly. Sebastian smiled.

"Whatever you want, Scion."

Kurt's head popped up.

"Why do you call me that now?" Kurt asked. He had noticed more and more that his friend referred to him more by his title than his name.

"The priests want us to," Sebastian said, hooking his chin over Kurt's shoulder.

"Well, I don't want you to." Kurt turned in Sebastian's arms and looked deep into his emerald green eyes. "We're here alone. I'm not Scion here. I'm just Kurt. So call me Kurt. Okay?"

Sebastian pecked a kiss to Kurt's forehead.

"Whatever you want, Kurt," Sebastian said. "Of course, I could just call you gorgeous. I think it suits you better."

Kurt smiled weakly, but he looked down the length of Sebastian's gaudy ceremonial robe and the smile fell.

"Don't," Kurt said. "Don't…just…call me Kurt."

Sebastian nodded. Three quick knocks on Sebastian's cell door interrupted their private moment.

"Come in," Sebastian sighed, turning to greet the man who would usher him away from Kurt and the one moment they would never get the chance to share.

"It's time, Sebastian," the elderly man said, his voice clipped and curt. It wasn't really a secret that Sebastian wasn't necessarily a favorite among the other priests, and it amused Sebastian to no end to use that to his advantage. "Have you properly prepared yourself?"

"Do you mean am I ready to go fuck some guy I don't know and will never see again?" Sebastian asked, not even trying to hide his bitterness. "Then the answer to that is yes, sir."

Shielded behind Sebastian's body, hidden from view, Kurt flinched.

"You know, I don't even see why they bother," the man sneered. "You are never going to become a protector for…"

Kurt stepped to the side, his eyes seething at the surly man who insulted his friend. The man's mouth dropped, his face going so pale it turned grey.

"Sc-scion," he stuttered, bowing low in front of Kurt. Kurt looked at Sebastian and rolled his eyes.

"Grumbald," Kurt acknowledged the man with a stunted nod. "You may leave us. I will be walking my friend to the temple."

Sebastian's face went pale as well, and he swallowed hard. They had discussed this. Kurt wanted nothing to do with the ceremony, wanted nothing to do with watching his best friend make love to someone else, especially with the unspoken feelings that seemed to swirl around them whenever they were together. In his heart, Sebastian knew Kurt loved him. Kurt never had any reason to doubt Sebastian's feelings. Sebastian told him every single day.

"But nothing," Kurt growled with a stomp of his foot and a hint of mounting tears in his voice. "Be gone, or I'll fuck him myself."

Sebastian chuckled once nervously, but Kurt might as well have threatened to kill the elderly priest, who looked close to vomiting at the thought of the chosen one, the last Scion, sullying himself with a common priest and destroying a mission that the order had been preparing millennia for.

"As you wish, Scion," the man replied, tripping over himself to back out of the small quarters, keeping his head bowed while simultaneously scowling at Sebastian. Sebastian raised a hand and waved.

Kurt sighed and fell back into his friend's arms when they were finally alone.

"You better watch that mouth, Sc…Kurt," Sebastian said, placing a small kiss in Kurt's hair. "They're going to wash it out."

"Yeah, well, I'd like to see them try," Kurt said, his voice muffled by the multitude of material he hid his face in.

Sebastian wanted nothing more than to stay with Kurt forever, but he had responsibilities – they both did, and as ridiculous as this ceremony was, the faster he got it over with, the faster he returned to Kurt.

"Come on," Sebastian said, looping his arm around Kurt's, "walk with me."

Kurt nodded, brushing away a tiny tear with his fingertips. Another broke free to take its place, and Sebastian caught this one, bringing the drop to his lips and kissing it away. They walked in silence across the courtyard, arm in arm, to the temple lit with torches along the outside and a single line of priests awaiting their arrival. Most of the priests eyed the two of them suspiciously. Kurt and Sebastian had been raised together. They had been discovered at roughly the same time. But the two seemed to have no other friends among anyone else in the order save for Sebastian's mentor, Tellemband, who hated every day the vows and duties that would forever keep these young men apart. It was unavoidable. Kurt had a job to do, an important one, and if Tellemband had any say in the matter Sebastian would be right by his side.

Now it was just a matter of convincing everyone else.

Tellemband stepped forward, knowing Sebastian had no real supporters in the group gathered, and smiled as genuine a smile as he could muster.

"Are you ready, my son?" he asked Sebastian gently.

Sebastian took one last glance at Kurt and tried to look supportive, but the edges of his mouth quivered just a bit.

"Yes, sir," Sebastian said, and from what he could see, something in the depths of Kurt's blue eyes shattered.

Tellemband turned to Kurt with the same genuine smile.

"Scion," he said with a slight bow, "will you be…"

"No, I will not," Kurt said. He tried to pull his arm out of Sebastian's grasp but Sebastian held him, circling his arms around him and holding him tight. The other priests gasped that Sebastian would have the gall to manhandle the Scion so familiarly, but Tellemband simply shook his head.

Sebastian knew he shouldn't. He knew in many ways it was too, too cruel, but he couldn't leave Kurt with any doubts.

"It'll be you, Kurt," Sebastian whispered. "It doesn't matter who I'm with, it will always be you."

Kurt crumbled in Sebastian's arms, sobbing like a wounded animal. He wrenched free of Sebastian's embrace and ran into the dark. Sebastian hung his head. He heard the other priests murmur their disapproval.

"Too selfish…"

"Too connected…"

"…never be a protector…"

Tellemband put his hands on Sebastian's shoulders and led him past the glowers and glares of the other priests and into the temple.

"Don't you dare listen to them," he whispered into his young charge's ear. "There's more written into this prophecy then they'll ever understand because it is meant to be read with the heart, not the head, and I don't think they have any."

Tellemband led Sebastian down a dark hall that opened up into a large theater, almost like a coliseum, where other priests and acolytes of the order were gathered to bear witness to the ceremony. In the center of the theater, seated on an intricately woven rug, was a young man, older than Sebastian by a few years, already naked, beautiful if Sebastian was willing to admit it. But when he looked at the man with the come hither hazel eyes and the tanned skin, all he let himself see was Kurt – _his_ Kurt, sitting on a picnic blanket in the sun out in the courtyard. In his fantasy there is no divide, no duty, no responsibilities. Kurt isn't the Scion, and Sebastian isn't a priest. They're just men, together, in love, sharing a private moment, enjoying each other.

Sebastian let himself get lost to the fantasy, let himself believe that the arms reaching out to him were Kurt's. He dropped his robe, and the man on the blanket gasped. Sebastian approached him eagerly, and the man grinned like the cat that found the cream. The man rolled onto his stomach, already prepared. They had been told there would be no kissing. This was just sex, not intimacy. Sebastian settled down between the man's spread legs and with trembling hands guided his hard cock into the man's body.

"Kurt," he sighed, and the man's incredulous face snapped around to meet Sebastian's closed eyes.

"My name's not…"

Sebastian put a hand on the man's back between his shoulder blades and shoved his face firmly into the blanket. He didn't need that foreign voice destroying his carefully constructed fantasy.

"Kurt," Sebastian murmured, moving slowly, and at that point the man beneath him could care less what Sebastian called him. "My Kurt…"

Tellemband smiled at the sour men beside him.

"I told you," he said, beaming at the young man who continued to moan Kurt's name. "It has to be him."

"He's in love with the Scion?" a faceless voice said in disgust.

"He'll jeopardize the mission," another grumbled. "He'll put his own needs ahead of everything else."

"Never," Tellemband said, turning to the row of men. "He'll protect the Scion with his life, I'm sure of it."

Grumbald huffed.

"We'll see," he said, turning away from the scene before him and heading out of the temple.

* * *

Sebastian did up the buttons to his robe, not even sparing a glance to the sated man with the goofy smile reclining back on the blanket.

"You know, they say the priests and their courtesans can hang around and get to know each other a little better," the man entreated. "Did you want to…"

"I have somewhere I need to be," Sebastian said quickly, finishing the last of his buttons and turning around, walking headlong right into another priest.

"Are you going to see the Scion?" the man asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What does it matter to you?" Sebastian bit out angrily.

The man glared at Sebastian, but then his lips twisted into a vicious grin.

"Well, I guess it's best that you spend as much time with him as you can," the priest said with a touch of grim humor. "He has a mission to begin, so he probably won't be around much longer."

Sebastian's whole body went cold.

_Kurt_ wouldn't be around much longer.

Implying that Kurt was leaving and Sebastian would be staying behind.

Sebastian brushed past the priest and ran from the temple. He had intended on stopping by his own cell and showering first to get every last trace of that whore off his skin, but he couldn't. That priest knew something…something Kurt must already know by now. Sebastian had to find out for himself.

Sebastian raced through the courtyard and past the dormitories, into the rectory where Kurt was kept.

Sebastian heard his muffled crying before he even approached the door. Sebastian knocked, and the crying quieted into choked sobs.

"Kurt," Sebastian called softly. "Kurt, can I come in?"

After a few long moments of silence Sebastian thought that Kurt might not open the door, but it creaked open slowly. Kurt took one look at Sebastian and fell into his arms. Sebastian wanted to push Kurt away. He felt dirty, ashamed. He had himself convinced that he had just made love to Kurt, but the truth was he hadn't. He'd lain with a whore, a common whore. But Kurt's arms were insistent, pulling Sebastian into the room and sitting him onto the small bed.

"I'm so sorry," Sebastian groaned into Kurt's hair. "I'm so, so sorry." He felt tears roll down his cheeks, but Kurt was shaking his head.

"It's not that," Kurt murmured, though Sebastian could tell by the tone in his voice it might have still been _that_, if only just a little. "Grumbald came back after you left. H-he said that I'm starting my mission t-tomorrow. I'm leaving, Bas. I'm leaving with Alistair."

Sebastian's whole body went rigid, his teeth clenched, his head suddenly full of hateful thoughts. _Alistair_. That whimpering, weak suck up protecting his beautiful Kurt. Sebastian couldn't ignore the fact that he also happened to be Grumbald's charge. Sebastian refused to believe that this was happening. He always imagined that he and Kurt would end up together. He was so sure of it, that even now he couldn't convince himself that things would turn out any different.

Kurt's whole body shook, and Sebastian realized he had spent too much time lingering in his loathing.

"Don't worry, Kurt," Sebastian managed, even though the words sounded weak even to himself. "I won't let them split us up."

"B-but…" Kurt whimpered.

"But nothing," Sebastian said firmly. "I don't care what they say. They can't take you away from me."

Sebastian held Kurt's limp body at arm's distance, noticing just how much Kurt had already given up. There had to be something else. Grumbald must have said something else. He had never seen Kurt like this before, but he decided now wasn't the time to ask.

"Let me go shower and change," Sebastian offered quietly, "and then we'll climb back into bed and think of a solution."

Sebastian wanted to sound confident, but other than running away he couldn't really imagine anything they could do.

But if running away was their only option, Sebastian would take it.

"Can I come with you?" Kurt asked. "And just sit on the floor and wait?"

Sebastian sighed. His original intention was to turn the shower water up to scalding and scream out his frustration, but he couldn't refuse Kurt. He would never deny him anything.

"Sure," Sebastian said, offering Kurt his hand, and pulling him to his feet. "Whatever you want."

* * *

A sharp bright light woke Sebastian from his dreamless sleep, and he curled over Kurt's body protectively. He made a decision…he was determined there was no way anyone was taking Kurt from him, Scion or no. He would follow Kurt to the ends of the earth, he would give up his place in the order, even if it meant discommunication…even if it meant death.

"Sebastian? Kurt?" a soft voice muttered, rousing them from sleep. "You have to get up. You have to go, now."

Sebastian blinked his eyes open and saw Tellemband backlit by the bright light, a duffel bag open in his hands as he shoved clothes from a small dresser into it, along with other odds and ends.

Sebastian shook Kurt awake, and Kurt whined, not wanting to leave the peace of his dreams to face the reality of a life without Sebastian.

"No, Bas," he murmured.

"Kurt, babe, it's Tellemband. He says we have to leave."

That only vaguely got Kurt's attention. He opened one eye, watching Sebastian's mentor shove a few more things into an old military duffel and zip it shut. He turned back onto his side, hiding his head beneath his pillow.

Tellemband grabbed Sebastian's arm and pulled him upright from the bed.

"Don't go back to the dorms. I got all your things. Everything is packed in the pick-up outside."

Sebastian shook his head as he tried to understand.

"Take the north road out." Tellemband shoved a hard plastic card into Sebastian's hands. "This is the bank account the order set up for the protector of the Scion, but the minute they find him gone they're going to close it, so find the first ATM you can and empty it. Every cent. Do you understand?" Sebastian looked down at the card and saw a Post-It wrapped around it with four digits written in clear block script.

"I think so," Sebastian said around a yawn. Tellemband looked at the tired young priest and slapped him across the face.

"What the fuck?" Sebastian groaned, putting a hand to his wounded cheek, his eyes opened wide.

Tellemband drew his face close to Sebastian's and spoke slowly, significantly.

"Listen to me," Tellemband said. "There will be dire consequences in the morning when the priests find him gone. You need to leave now, go as far as you can away from here…and don't look back."

Sebastian nodded, his green eyes shining with renewed understanding.

"Continue the mission," Tellemband continued. "Keep him safe. Trust no one. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Sebastian said, finally awake with the gravity of the situation. "I understand."

Sebastian shouldered the bag and lifted a sleepy Kurt into his arms. He followed Tellemband quietly out to the courtyard. He didn't ask any questions, didn't wonder why there were no other priests roaming the rectory halls even though there was always one or two at this hour. He knew Tellemband had done something, but he felt it better not to know exactly what. They padded out onto the cobblestones to the waiting truck. When Sebastian slid Kurt into the truck seat, he started to whimper.

"No," Kurt groaned, still mostly asleep. "No, I don't want to go."

"Kurt, baby," Sebastian cooed, "it's alright. Go back to sleep. It'll all be okay."

Tellemband watched with a small, sad smile as Sebastian kissed Kurt's forehead and buckled him into his seat, closing the truck door quietly. Tellemband hugged Sebastian, patting him on the back and leading him to the driver's seat.

Sebastian rolled down the window and looked into the face of the man who raised him, who taught him everything he knew, who defended him and kept him safe…a man whom he would most likely never see again.

"Sebastian," Tellemband said, his voice shaking a bit with emotion, "don't come back."

Sebastian nodded and fired the ignition, shifting the truck into drive and taking off down the road with Kurt by his side, away from temples and ceremonies and disappointed eyes…and the only life he had ever known.


	57. Sebastian the Protector

**A/N:** _Written for Kurtbastian Week 2014 Day 3. Summary: __This is a third part I wrote for my Kurtbastian Week one-shot The Last Scion, and the second part Sebastian and the Last Scion by anon request. Sebastian takes Kurt to a seedy hotel to keep him safe, and Kurt asks him about the man he slept with during the ceremony. _Rated R (For talk about sex, language, supernatural elements, and loose interpretation of religious themes)

A highway no-tell motel.

That definitely wasn't a place for the lauded Last Scion, but Kurt (plain, regular, beautiful Kurt) had no business being there either. If things were different and Sebastian had his way, Kurt would be settled in the lap of luxury with nothing but the best of everything…the kinds of things Sebastian's past life and his estranged father could definitely help Sebastian give to him. But Sebastian figured this run down little shack - barely four walls, a ceiling, and thankfully indoor plumbing – was the perfect place to hide out for the night. With all the money they had at their disposal and the way the less forgiving priests had never stopped seeing Sebastian as materialistic and self-serving, The Stardust 79 was definitely the last place anyone would think to look for them.

Sebastian paid for the room in cash. The doped out guy behind the desk barely acknowledged his existence, didn't know that he was sharing his room with another person, and Sebastian was grateful for those small favors.

When they left the compound with its towering temples behind, Sebastian obediently drove the north road, hitting every gas station he could, withdrawing money and leaving a paper trail. The account was linked to a trust, which meant no daily limit as long as he withdrew only $800 from each ATM. But doing it this way would make them too obvious. Sebastian needed them to be only obvious enough. Along the way he bought a disposable cell phone at a 7-11 and through a few admittedly shady deals, he made the remainder of the money 'disappear' to a place where he would be able to conveniently locate it five days later. He wasn't too concerned about any of these people turning him in. The last time Sebastian saw any of these thugs was before his father ditched him. He was eight years old, with a crew cut and a broken nose courtesy of dear old dad. It took some tracking down, but he tied up every loose end, and for all intents and purposes, Kurt and Sebastian disappeared somewhere around the Tackaloosa Truck Stop.

Then, because he had taken every word Tellemband said to heart, he trusted no one, and turned their truck due east, driving down a few streets before making a round-about to insure that anyone who had physical contact with them didn't see anything that might be considered suspicious.

If Sebastian allowed himself to dwell more on human sins, he might actually be impressed with his own criminal prowess, but it paled in comparison to Tellemband's ability to pick a lock or crack a safe, so Sebastian stuffed those feelings deep down and concentrated on the task at hand.

Hours after leaving the place they once called home, what they once considered a sanctuary, Kurt awoke, and even though his eyes hadn't completely cleared from his hours of sleep and crying, he commanded Sebastian to tell him everything.

Sebastian still bowed to the Scion. It was a sin to lie to him, even if just to spare his feelings.

Sebastian took a deep breath and explained Tellemband's late night visit, his command to get Kurt as far away from the temple as possible, to continue the mission…to never come back.

Kurt tried to stay stoic, but it was that last part, the last thing Tellemband said to Sebastian that made the tears fall anew.

Kurt and Sebastian were schooled in very different aspects of the order, but one thing was crystal clear for both of them – there were extreme consequences for defying the order's wishes, consequences that Tellemand would suffer come morning.

Consequences that Sebastian would more than suffer if the priests ever found them.

These warnings were embedded in Kurt and Sebastian specifically from a young age, when it was obvious that their affection for each other exceeded the boundaries of mere friendship. Kurt believed it was done on purpose so that he would not fall in love with Sebastian and so Sebastian would not try and kidnap him away…the way he was doing now.

Kurt cried and cried for hours, and Sebastian let him, holding his hand across the bench seat and simply being there for him. He wouldn't tell Kurt not to cry, or that everything would be alright. Sebastian wanted to believe it, but he couldn't make any promises, and Kurt deserved to cry.

He deserved to cry for a lot of things.

So did Sebastian.

Sebastian drove and drove, through the night and into the day, back into night again, until the lines in the road crossed in front of his vision, and he got tired searching out every side road gas station to fill up their tank.

Kurt didn't speak when Sebastian walked him into their detestable room. Sebastian shook out the bed sheets and inspected everything carefully for bedbugs. When Sebastian felt comfortable that the room sucked but was not infested, he lay Kurt down carefully, and then started the task of performing spells of protection, spells of confusion, prayers of cloaking, everything he could think of that would keep search parties – human and demonic – off their trail.

When he was done, he climbed up on the bed behind Kurt, but when Kurt's body stiffened, Sebastian pulled back a little.

"Is this okay?" Sebastian asked. The question sounded awkward since he'd never had to ask it before.

Kurt nodded, and Sebastian pulled in close, the salve of Kurt's body against his immediately setting everything right.

"Would you…could you…"

Sebastian looked down at Kurt's face in the dark, trying to make out the expression on his face.

"Yes, Kurt?"

"Could you tell me what it was like?" Kurt asked, his voice dipping down into a register Sebastian almost didn't hear.

Sebastian was going to ask "What was _what _like?" to stall for time, but he wasn't about to insult the Scion's intelligence.

"I'll tell you," Sebastian said, "but does it have to be right now?"

Kurt sniffled. Sebastian felt a tear drip from Kurt's cheek and fall onto his skin, and Sebastian knew, yes, it had to be right now.

"What do you want to know?" Sebastian asked, praying that if anyone in the heavens above still had any affection for him, even after kidnapping Kurt, that this conversation would be quick and painless.

"What was his name?" Kurt asked.

Sebastian's own body went rigid now. He didn't mean it to, but it was just a reaction to the thought that Kurt might think he cared so much about some random that he would hold onto something as personal as the man's name.

"I don't know," Sebastian groaned.

"Did he tell it to you?"

"Maybe he did, I don't know," Sebastian said, trying to cool his temper. "It's not important."

"It _is_ important," Kurt retorted, sounding strangely defensive.

"No, Kurt," Sebastian said, his voice tight and strained. "It's _not _important."

"He's a person, Sebastian," Kurt argued. "He gave you something of himself…"

"No, Kurt!" Sebastian cried, almost shoving away from the other boy. "No, Kurt, he didn't! He wasn't a virgin. He wasn't in love with me. He was a whore, Kurt. _I_ gave him something. _I_ gave him something I wanted to give to you, and they paid him to take it away from me. So, no Kurt. He wasn't a person. Not to me. He was just a means to an end."

Kurt gasped and the indignantion in that small sound filled Sebastian with hurt and rage.

"You don't think that maybe this was difficult for me, too?" Sebastian stumbled over words that fought one another to be heard. "I always thought they would see us together all these years, see how much I was in love with you, and…"

"Let you sleep with me?" Kurt scoffed.

"Let me pass this by," Sebastian whimpered, trying to keep his voice steady and strong, "and when they didn't, Kurt, it almost broke me." Sebastian sniffled, swallowing back all the fury welling up in his throat, not wanting to lash out at the one person who deserved his anger less than anyone. "The only reason I didn't fight was because I thought, I truly believed, they were making me go through with it _because_ of my love for you, that for certain they would make me your protector. And now to find out that wasn't the case…"

Sebastian shook his head, shaking away dark thoughts; trying to shake away tears, too.

"It wasn't him, Kurt," Sebastian whispered, wrapping his arms around Kurt's body and trying to pull him close, whining low in the back of his throat when Kurt resisted. "It was you. _Your_ hair, _your_ eyes, _your _smile, _your_ body…it was all you, and for now, at least, if I can't keep believing that, then I'm going to fall apart."

Kurt felt Sebastian shiver and melted back against him, cursing himself, cursing his immaturity, after everything Sebastian had been through in the last hours just to protect him. He hated himself for his behavior.

What a Scion he was turning out to be.

All those lessons, all those ceremonies, all this pomp and circumstance, and he was really nothing more than a jealous teenager. Kurt wanted to turn in Sebastian's arms and hold him, but he suddenly had an idea, admittedly sort of a stupid idea that might just make things monumentally worse, but he was going to be all the things Sebastian was too disciplined to be. He was going to be greedy and selfish…and human.

"Can you tell me the daydream?" Kurt asked innocently, pulling completely out of Sebastian's arms. "This way I can pretend I was there with you?"

Sebastian swallowed. He knew what Kurt was doing.

Kurt was the Last Scion, in many ways touted as a perfect being, without earthly concerns and cares, but he was also a human teenager with normal hormonal responses.

"Kurt…" Sebastian warned, moving as far to the other end of the bed as the single mattress would allow.

"Just…don't touch me," Kurt said kindly, "and talk to me."

Kurt waited in the dark, holding fast to the edge of the mattress, hoping that Sebastian would indulge him.

"Alright," Sebastian relented, letting his eyes drift closed, trying to recapture the memory.

"You were waiting for me…on a picnic blanket beneath the willows in the courtyard where we have lunch on the warm days in the spring…"

"Mmhmm," Kurt nodded keeping completely still.

"And we weren't dressed in robes, or some stupid ceremonial garb, just jeans and t-shirts. We were just people…"

Of all the details in his daydream, their laid-back clothing was the part he loved the most. He knew that the world outside their gates didn't always smile too brightly on homosexual couples, but so many days he'd rather face _that_ narrow-minded persecution than the idea that some huge, universal battle between good and evil would tear him and Kurt apart.

"And I sat beside you," Sebastian continued, his voice hoarse and thick, "and you kissed me…"

Sebastian breathed heavily, a grin spreading on his lips. Kurt looked back over his shoulder.

"Did you kiss him?" Kurt murmured, trying not to sound accusatory.

"No," Sebastian answered quickly, opening his eyes so Kurt could see Sebastian's sincerity in their depths. "No…even if they let us, I wouldn't have. _That_ I get to keep."

Kurt smiled to himself in the dark, but Sebastian caught just a hint of the glimmer in his eyes before he looked away.

"I held your face in my hands," Sebastian continued softly, unintentionally seducing Kurt with the smooth slide of his voice. "Tracing your cheekbones with my thumbs, staring deep into your eyes between each kiss, letting my tongue play over the seam of your mouth until you let me in…"

"Aha," Kurt sighed, but the sound carefully camouflaged a moan, and Sebastian heard alarm bells fire off in his head. His own erection returned, that hidden moan bringing it to life. Sebastian locked his hands together behind his back in an effort not to let them wander.

"I stripped you of your clothing, one piece at a time…"

Sebastian waited, letting the image of him helping Kurt out of his clothes sink in. Sebastian saw Kurt's fists tighten in the sheets. He wanted to shut his eyes again, but he couldn't. He'd never seen Kurt aroused before. Sure, they'd shared a bed tons of times, and went their own separate ways silently when the need arose, but he never witnessed Kurt's world unwind, and this, just from the sound of Sebastian's voice.

"A-and I rolled you over on your stomach," Sebastian panted, his entire body trembling with the strain, "and kissed you over your shoulders, over your neck, down your back, licking down your spine…"

Sebastian heard Kurt gasp, his hand breaking away from the sheets to claw lightly over his own skin, trying to follow the trail Sebastian's tongue would have taken, switching to his sternum when his spine was too difficult to reach.

Sebastian's breath shuddered when he thought about the next place he dreamed his mouth had kissed.

"A-and then, Kurt," Sebastian faltered, his eyes falling closed again before the image of Kurt did him in, "a-and then I held you open and gently, very gently, I kissed…"

Sebastian felt shivering fingers press against his lips, and without a thought he pecked a kiss on them quickly.

"N-no more," Kurt commanded. Sebastian opened his eyes, afraid he had offended Kurt, afraid that he had made Kurt feel dirty, but the smile that met him erased all his concerns. Kurt bit his lip, and in the fading candlelight Sebastian saw a tinge of pink on the apples of his high cheekbones, and a slight sheen of perspiration covering his brow. "That's…that was…" Kurt's eyes darted away, unable to stare too long into Sebastian's, which looked at him in a way Kurt had never seen before. "Enough for now. That was enough for now."

Sebastian couldn't find any bit of his voice to answer so he nodded.

Kurt giggled at Sebastian's silence.

"Uh…do…do you think you can hold me?" he asked sheepishly.

Sebastian took a few deep, exaggerated breaths, smirking when Kurt threw his head back and laughed.

"I think I can manage," Sebastian assured him, dragging Kurt close into the circle of his arms, leaving him enough space between them to settle down.

"Thank you," Kurt murmured against Sebastian's skin. "Thank you for humoring me."

Sebastian buried his nose in Kurt's hair and breathed in, trying to banish all thoughts of priests and ceremonies with the scent of Kurt's shampoo that always reminded him of warm spring breezes and that sacred weeping willow tree.


	58. A Fairly Even Trade

**A/N:** _Written for Kurtbastian Week 2014 Day 4. Summary: __After Kurt's husband slips into a coma he goes to unusual extremes to try and save his life. _Rated NC17 for talk of suicide and death of a major character.

"So, you're sure you can do this?" Kurt asked the wizened old man for the hundredth time in ten minutes. The patient man smiled wider and nodded.

"Of course, Mr. Hummel-Smythe," the man said with a small bow. "It's actually a very simple procedure."

"Well, then why don't more people do it then?" Kurt said with a shaking voice and quivering lips. Blaine held his hand tight, trying to offer his support. "Why don't you here about people doing it all the time, walking around in other people's bodies?"

"Kurt," Blaine said, tugging on Kurt's arm and pulling his focus. "It's all going to be okay. I promise."

"And what about you?" Kurt turned on his former lover. "Are you actually okay with this?"

"Yes, Kurt," Blaine said with a sigh, looking more at peace than nervous. "It'll be a relief. I promise. I have no regrets."

Blaine's enthusiasm was comforting, if not a little disturbing.

After not having seen Blaine in over a decade, Kurt ran into him here, at the hospital of all places. Sebastian had just been in a car accident and slipped into a coma.

Blaine was being released from his 72 hour watch. He had tried to kill himself. After the awkwardness of that piece of information dissolved away, they went to the cafeteria for coffee and rehashed all the details of their lives for the past ten years.

Kurt told Blaine how he had started his own fashion line (finally) with his husband as his main backer, and that they were finally going to start a family.

Blaine told Kurt about one failed record deal after another, rejection on top of rejection until he ended up where he was now - occupying a cramped, shoebox apartment in a seedy section of downtown.

It broke Kurt's heart to see Blaine like this, giving up in what Kurt felt was still the prime of his life, but Blaine didn't see it that way. As far as he was concerned his life ended three failed contracts ago, and now he was just biding his time, floating along at coffee house open mic nights with no hope in sight.

It's okay when you're 25, but at 37 it's just pathetic.

Kurt decided then and there to take Blaine on as kind of a 'pet project'. He told Blaine to give him a week to try and help him out. He had some contacts in the music industry. There had to be something he could do. Besides, helping Blaine gave Kurt something to do other than sit by his husband's bedside waiting for finger twitches or other changes, no matter how microscopic and ultimately meaningless. There was a point when Kurt feared old feelings might resurface, and a combination of loneliness and depression would push him into Blaine's arms again, but they never did.

Blaine kept his side of their deal for exactly four days.

The next time Blaine ended up in the hospital, Kurt decided he needed to find a new and unconventional approach to all of his problems. He went to a New Age shop in The Village in search of something a out of the ordinary, or at the very least some interesting incense. The store wasn't really much more noteworthy than any of the other hippie shops in town but Kurt was at the end of his rope. Guru Shamban was the only thing unique in the cramped little knothole, and when he came out from behind the counter and asked Kurt if there was something he could do for him, Kurt immediately got the feeling that this man would be able to help him.

"Well, what would you recommend for my husband who's in a coma and my friend who keeps trying to kill himself?"

"Perspective," the kindly old man said, and to Kurt's surprise he asked about Blaine. They sat at a lowered table on colorful pillows and Kurt told the man everything, pretty much starting from high school till the present day; how his and Blaine's engagement fell completely apart and then how he got reacquainted with Sebastian. After years of acting like asses to each other it was love at first (or fifth) sight.

The man listened dutifully, absorbing all Kurt had to say, never interrupting, nodding here and there.

"My husband still has some brain activity left, but it's fading every day," Kurt confessed. "I need a solution quick and at this point I'm ready to try anything."

"So, you value your husband's life," the man surmised, "and your friend doesn't value his. Do you think your friend would be willing to swap places with your husband?"

When Kurt had said 'ready to try anything', he hadn't expected that. He was infuriated that this man would waste his time and then tease him like this, until he introduced Kurt to his young daughter…a girl of about seventeen, who was actually the man's 89 year-old mother.

Kurt was prepared to be skeptical. In fact, he wanted to tear this cockamamie idea apart with both hands, but the girl was just too convincing. Kurt still didn't necessarily believe the man, but what could it hurt to try. He wasn't sure Blaine would agree or just think he was crazy, but when Kurt laid the whole plan out for him, he actually seemed excited.

"I'll do it! Of course I'll do it! I mean, I'm trying to check out of life anyway."

That's how they ended up in the hospital, surrounding Sebastian's comatose body, preparing for what, Kurt wasn't exactly certain. Bright lights? Choirs of angels? A floating God head descending on Sebastian's room?

"I wonder if you see all the moments in your life when you die or just the significant ones," Blaine mused.

"I imagine it's a combination of the two," Kurt said, even though he didn't quite believe in that 'life passing before your eyes' stuff, but there was no reason not to humor his friend. Blaine had a goofy smile on his face and Kurt couldn't help the overwhelmingly massive pang of guilt that filled him head to toe.

The guru said a blessing over Sebastian's body in a language Kurt couldn't even begin to identify, laying prayer beads around Sebastian's neck and anointing his face and hands with some sort of sweet smelling oil. Then he turned to Blaine and held out a hand to him.

"Are you ready, young man?" the guru asked.

Blaine smiled and nodded, taking the offered hand, and then taking Sebastian's hand.

"There will be no pain," the guru said to Blaine. "There's no reason to be scared."

Kurt couldn't help but notice that Blaine looked far from scared. He turned to Kurt with that shy smile that Kurt remembered first falling in love with. Now it made him look so young it was almost heartbreaking.

"I always loved you, Kurt," Blaine whispered. "I never stopped. I could never give you anything, even when we were together, but now I can give you this."

The pang of guilt exploded into a full-fledged super nova of guilt, threatening to engulf every inch of him – body, heart, and soul.

"No," Kurt gasped, shaking his head slowly. He loved his husband. He couldn't live without his husband. There was no way he could wake up to another sunrise if his husband didn't survive. But this was wrong, so wrong. There had to be another way. There just had to. Sacrificing one life for another seemed so medieval. He reached for Blaine's hand to pull it out of Sebastian's, so they could take a moment and talk this through, but Blaine put out an arm and kept Kurt away, feeling his body already fill with a warm, radiant light, images from his life spiraling around his head, just the way he had imagined.

_"I always loved you, Kurt."_

_"I'll do it! Of course I'll do it!"_

_"I don't have to be your pet project."_

_"Okay. I lied. It's not just coffee. Don't drink it."_

_"We're really doing it! Making a future together."_

_"So, Kurt Hummel, my amazing friend, my one true love…"_

_"I will sign whatever you want, just please say that you and I could be boyfriends again…"_

_"I was with someone."_

_"Kurt…there is a moment…"_

_"I've got your back…"_

_"Beat the shit out of me, if that's going to make you feel like a big guy! It's never going to change me…"_

_"Mom…dad…there's something I need to tell you…"_

_"Cooper! Give it to me! It's mine!"_

_ "But, moooooom…I know I don't like Brussels sprouts…"_

_"Dad-da…dad-da…dadadadada…"_

The flat line alert sounded just as Blaine's body collapsed to the floor. Hazel eyes shot open and looked up at Kurt with shock.

"K-Kurt?" the confused man said, his arms flailing. The voice was Blaine's, but Kurt could hear Sebastian in it. "Kurt? What's going on? What am I doing here?"

Kurt sobbed, grateful and mortified all at the same time. Watching his husband's body die, knowing that the man he once loved more than anything was trapped inside, was almost too much to bear. Kurt saw nurses with a crash cart flood the room. The patient guru with the sad eyes was nowhere to be seen.

Kurt hedged. He and Blaine had discussed this, but Kurt didn't know if he could go through with it.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, hoping it would be easier to say in the dark behind his eyelids.

"DNR!" Kurt choked out, trying hard not to bend down and cradle the fallen man by his side. "He has a DNR!"

The head nurse scowled and checked the chart.

"When did this happen?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I got the order a few days ago," Kurt sniffled, holding tight to Sebastian's hand where his body lay still and nonresponsive in the bed. "It's what he wanted."

It wasn't a lie. That wasn't Sebastian anymore, it was Blaine, and Blaine didn't want to live.

Still with a wary eye in his direction, the nurse shooed the crash cart away, and started turning off machines and detaching IV's.

"Should we find a place for your friend?" she asked bitterly, but he made it a point not to notice.

"Yes, please," he said, not looking down where Blaine's body lay sprawled on his tailbone, a look of confusion on his face. A male nurse helped Blaine's body with its new owner settle into a nearby chair, checking his eyes and his pulse to make sure he didn't suffer a concussion from his fall.

Kurt looked into his husband's face, struck hard by disbelief that it was Sebastian's body, but not his soul.

It was Blaine.

Blaine died.

Blaine died so Sebastian could live, and in Kurt's heart there would always be an empty space where Blaine once stayed.

Kurt leaned over the bed and kissed his husband's forehead, smoothing out the lines of his face and brushing back silky brown hair from his smooth brow.

"Thank you, Blaine," Kurt whispered, resting his head on the man's chest. "Thank you for giving me my husband back."

Kurt followed the line of Sebastian's body down to his knee, then turned to the shell-shocked man sitting on the chair watching him. Kurt waited until all the nurses left and knelt down beside him.

"It's alright," Kurt soothed the catatonic man whose panic stricken eyes stayed glued to the body in the bed. "You're going to be fine now."

"What the fuck is happening to me?" Sebastian asked, his voice too strange, too unnerving to his ears.

"You're going to live out the rest of your life, baby. You're going to be with me for years to come and live to be an old man."

"What did you do to me, Kurt?" Sebastian asked, not sure yet if he was furious or ecstatic.

"Sebastian," Kurt said, taking a deep breath, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. "You're body died, baby. There was nothing we could do to save it. Long story short…" Kurt swallowed hard, "…you're Blaine Anderson."


	59. A Trip to the Doctor

**A/N:**_This is just a little bit of venting that requires a tiny bit of explanation. I have nothing against nurses. I love nurses. I think they're invaluable. I also have nothing against receptionist. I was a receptionist for many, many years and I know first hand just how daunting that job is. But every once in a while you get one that just…ergh…and it's usually at the pediatrician's office. Now why do I add the thing about the nurses? Because a lot of people assume that the people who work the front desk at the dr. are nurses. This isn't always true. It is at my children's dr.'s office. This is my way of blowing off steam about something that happened last Sunday when we had an emergency with our baby. I'm just trying to make it funny… (P. S. What happened in the story didn't happen to us…)_

_Phew…that said._

_This is a second part to the one-shot I wrote a million years ago called 'Daddies'. Kurt and Sebastian take Thomas to his pediatrician Wes (I made his last name Leung because I couldn't find Wes's last name), and Sebastian has it out with the receptionist._

"Hummel…Smythe…" Sebastian growled through a jaw clenched so tight he could barely breathe. "Thomas…Hummel…Smythe…"

"I know, sir," the severe receptionist returned, completely unmoved by Sebastian's mounting anger. "But your son is _still_ not on the list of appointments for today."

"That's probably because my husband just talked to Wes not five minutes ago," Sebastian said, his fingers curling and uncurling in tight fists on the counter.

"Do you mean _Dr. Leung_?" the nurse returned condescendingly. Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"To you maybe. You didn't sleep next to him for two years in high school."

The nurse appeared slightly offended at that comment, which Sebastian chalked up as a win.

"Look," the nurse said, handing Sebastian a clipboard, "you are more than welcome to fill out this admissions paperwork and wait with all of the other walk-ins. F.Y.I. it's about a two hour wait." Sebastian was sure he saw the evil woman grimace, but he knew that Kurt would withhold sex for at least a week if he dropped this woman like a hot potato here on the floor. Sebastian grabbed the clipboard with as much venom as he could put into picking something up, and reached for the sparkly little recycled soup can filled with flower pens, but when Nurse Ratched saw him reach for one, she grabbed it away. He looked at her with his jaw dropped.

"What the fuck?" he groaned.

"Those aren't for the patients," she said coolly, replacing it with a plain white mug filled with blue BIC ballpoint pens.

"But the other receptionist let us use the flower pens," Sebastian groused loudly.

"Yes, well, the other receptionist isn't here."

"Yeah…and the other receptionist isn't a bitch!" Sebastian spat out.

The woman stood up and slammed her hands on the desk.

"I will not be spoken to that way," she said, jutting her chin and her tiny, upturned nose into the air.

"Yeah, well, you should have probably thought about that before you left your house and said 'You know what? I think I'm going to be a bitch to some poor sick little kid's parents today!'"

From the chorus of snickers that arose in the waiting room around him, Sebastian suspected he wasn't the only one.

Kurt sighed, having snuck in with Thomas sometime after the pen argument and met Wes at the inside office door.

"Kurt," Wes said, smiling warmly. "It's so nice to see you. How is Thomas feeling?"

"His throat hurts," Kurt said, keeping a hand around the shy little boy hiding behind his legs. "And I think he has an ear infection."

"I see," Wes said, looking at Thomas thoughtfully, then pulling a sudden, maniacal face that made the wary boy giggle. Wes shook his head at the ruckus coming from the front desk.

"Sebastian?" Wes called out over the bickering.

Sebastian stopped mid-insult and his head snapped in Wes's direction. His red, twisted face relaxed into a smooth and charming grin.

"Wes, dude! Thank God you're here."

"Is everything alright?" Wes asked.

Before the nurse could put in her two-cents, Sebastian pointed at her accusingly.

"I don't like her," he said petulantly. "She's being mean to me."

Wes looked from Sebastian to the smug nurse rolling her eyes. Wes raised an eyebrow in her direction and the woman actually froze.

"Noted," Wes said. Kurt had to bite his lip and turn his face away to muffle his laughter at the look of dread on the woman's face. "Anything else?"

"Yes." Sebastian stood to his full height, straightening his wrinkled shirt. "She won't let me use the flower pens."

Wes looked back at the now cowering woman, and made a subtle gesture with his head. She moved quickly but stiffly, returning the sparkly pen can back up to its place on the counter. Sebastian rubbed his hands together and plucked one of the pens, a purple gerbera, out of the can. He carried it with the clipboard and joined his family at the office door, throwing one last superior look over his shoulder as he went.

Wes simply shook his head as he led the way.

"Was that really necessary?" Kurt asked.

"Yes," Sebastian said as he held the door open wide for his husband and son, "yes, it was."


	60. Vows and Silence

**A/N:** _Written for the anons who seemed determined to keep this story going, here is a one-shot for the story I wrote for Kurtbastian Week 2014 The Last Scion that continues on from Kurt and Sebastian's first night in the motel where Sebastian is hiding Kurt. Anon prompted "any possible fallout from Sebastian revealing his daydream to Kurt (wink, wink)"_

The sound of rushing water broke through the dark oblivion that passed for sleep, and Sebastian did everything he could to try and push it away so he could return to that black abyss where nothing evil existed, nothing hunted them, nothing kept them apart. Sebastian reached out to draw Kurt tighter into the circle of his embrace, but once he realized he was lying in the small bed alone, he sat bolt upright; frantic, panic stricken eyes searching the darkness for Kurt.

He tried to wake up and recover his ability for rational thinking, trying to make sense of what was going on around him. He was struck again by the rushing water. The only place he was going to find rushing water in a motel room was the bathroom.

Sebastian breathed a huge sigh of relief. Kurt must be taking a shower. After all the stress and strain of the past day and a half, he most likely woke up to a nightmare and needed to relax. Sebastian listened to the sound of the water beating down on the shower walls and also Kurt's naked body, and for the first time he noticed Kurt whimpering. Sebastian's heart sank, thinking of Kurt – his poor, beautiful Kurt – crying beneath the hot water, probably using the spray to mask his tears. Sebastian swung his legs over the side of the bed and headed to the bathroom door, his hand poised to knock when a sudden, unexpected keen caught his attention. Sebastian held his breath and listened harder, trying to hone in on that sound if it came around again, and when it finally did, Sebastian was sure. His jaw dropped as he backed away from the door. The backs of his knees hit the mattress when he heard the muffled sound again and he stumbled backward onto the bed.

_Oh my God!_ Sebastian thought. Kurt was masturbating!

Sebastian suspected, but Kurt kept his thoughts about things like that very private. Kurt never seemed comfortable discussing anything sexual, and as his friend, Sebastian didn't pry. Even if Kurt hadn't been the Scion, it would have been too tacky to come out and ask. Sebastian imagined it had to be a tricky business for the Scion. Impure thoughts were considered evil, but the priests taught them that as impure creatures themselves there was some wiggle room. But where the priests sit on the bottom of the totem pole, the Scion sat perched on top, so how much wiggle room did Kurt have? Besides, exactly what did a supposedly perfect person fantasize about when they masturbated?

_"Sebastian."_

Sebastian's head snapped up at the sound; a moan so low, so quiet that a single breath would have drowned it out, but Sebastian still managed to hear it, even above the pounding water.

_"Sebastian."_

"Fuck," Sebastian groaned softly. He laid back on his pillows and closed his eyes, fighting with the decision between trying to block Kurt out and go back to sleep, or to let the temptation in Kurt's voice carry him along with it, if only in secret. A sudden thought of a naked Kurt standing beneath the water; steam rising up around his trim, muscular body; head thrown back, eyes closed, his hand fisting around his cock while he moaned Sebastian's name pretty much made Sebastian's mind up for him. He relaxed into the thin pillows and the stiff blankets as much as he could and listened to the muted sound of Kurt's voice.

_"Sebastian."_

Sebastian felt his body awaken, lured by that sound, his hand sneaking into his pants. Honestly, it was something he rarely did. As much as he sometimes detested being a priest, it was still his life, and masturbation didn't seem to fit well with duty, obedience, and responsibility. Sebastian joined the order to escape the long arm of his abusive father. After exactly twelve minutes in the dorms he had planned a way to escape. A minute later, he saw Kurt for the first time…and because of Kurt, he stayed. He made it his personal mission to protect Kurt. It was a vow he intended to keep.

Sebastian's hand moved slowly over his own cock, quickening his pace when Kurt continued to speak.

"Tell me you love me, Sebastian," Kurt murmured.

"I love you, Kurt," Sebastian whispered into his pillow.

"Tell me you want me."

If five words ever existed that could tear Sebastian completely apart, Kurt found them. Sebastian clenched his teeth, growling in frustration as he hit the bed hard.

"I want you, Kurt," Sebastian whined. "God, I want you."

"Tell me you need me."

Sebastian nearly choked. It was a plea, and it sounded so small and plaintive and unsure.

"Every day of my life," Sebastian replied softly to the empty air and the closed bathroom door.

Kurt's ramblings turned into a low, breathy pant and Sebastian could somehow feel beneath his skin and in his blood that Kurt was close. It was like a mist that surrounded him. He breathed it in through his mouth and let it fill his lungs. It expanded out through capillaries and arteries until it reached every last inch of him. Most of all, it completed him in a sensational way. It mended the rifts and filled the holes; every piece that had been torn away from him felt revitalized and renewed, and when he came over his fist, too caught up in the moment to even think about stopping, to consider the mess he'd have to explain when Kurt returned, there were so few of his actual cares left that he could almost convince himself that everything was good and normal in his world. He wanted that feeling. Even as it still lingered in the air around him he craved it. He knew he'd have to be careful not to become addicted, or it could change his relationship with Kurt forever.

The shower water stopped and reality bled in.

"Shitshitshit!" Sebastian chanted as he quickly cleaned himself up with this own shirt, shoving it hastily out of sight in the corner. He was debating changing the bed sheets when Kurt stepped out, completely dressed, skin damp and flushed from the hot water, a cloud of steam wafting around him and rolling across the graying carpet on the floor. Their eyes locked – Sebastian's from where he stood at the foot of the bed and Kurt's where he stopped just reaching the head of it, his face growing pinker by the second. They stared at each other with twin blank expressions that hid awkwardness and fear and embarrassment. Sebastian's heart beat out a steady rhythm that begged Kurt, "Please don't ask, please don't ask, please don't ask, please don't ask…"

Because whatever the Scion asked, his priest would have to answer.

It was a sin for a priest to lie to the Scion.

But Kurt wasn't just a Scion, he was also becoming a man – a man that he had always hoped would have inherited Elizabeth Hummel's grace, tact, and decorum as well as Burt Hummel's wisdom and easygoing nature.

"There's still some hot water left if you want to take a shower," Kurt said, hanging his wet towel behind the bathroom door and flicking off the light. "Though to tell you the truth, there wasn't really all that much to begin with."

"N-no," Sebastian stuttered. "No…I think I'm good."

Kurt climbed back onto the bed and looked up at his friend.

"Are you sure?" Kurt asked, a shy but surprisingly mischievous smile on his plump, pink lips.

Unusually plump, Sebastian noticed. Almost bitten…swollen…

His jaw dropped.

"Yeah," Sebastian confirmed, nodding a little more stringently than necessary.

Kurt chuckled once softly and slid into the bed on Sebastian's side.

"Uh…Kurt?" Sebastian approached Kurt, finally finding the will to move from his spot. "Don't you usually sleep on the right?"

"Yeah," Kurt agreed. "I usually do. I just like the energy on your side of the bed right now. Is that alright with you?"

"Yeah," Sebastian said softly, nodding, and climbing back in beside him. "Yeah, that's fine."

It amazed Sebastian how quickly he managed to fall back to sleep with Kurt in his arms.


	61. Once You Go Ridgeback

**A/N:** _Okay, a bit of an explanation and an apology. Anon asked for an April Fools Day fic that would include a kink or just something I wouldn't normally write. So, here's a part 2 to Man's Best Friend (the shapeshifter AU). Warnings - oral sex with a dog (dog on human, not human on dog). Sebastian as a dog goes down on Kurt. There I said it…_

Kurt spent an extra half-hour beneath the shower spray, hoping that his boyfriend would snap out of his funk and join him, but after his fingertips had wrinkled beyond belief Kurt finally gave up, turning off the water and stepping out of the oppressive steam into the cool air. He tried to towel off quickly before all the heat dissipated, frowning when he remembered that he had left his clothes in the bedroom – another lure he dangled in front of Sebastian's nose. But from the sound of high-pitched whining, Kurt knew that Sebastian was right where Kurt had left him – lying forlornly on the bedroom floor.

Sebastian hadn't said anything about what was bothering him when he got home. He grumbled and spat curses, even sniffled once or twice. He tossed off his clothes, shifted into his dog form, and hopped onto the couch, looking for attention from Kurt.

Kurt petted and nuzzled and cuddled the large Rhodesian, but nothing seemed to help. He decided to jump into a shower in an attempt to get Sebastian to transform back so they could have comfort sex, but that didn't work at all.

"Come on, Bas," Kurt said, kneeling down in front of the dog to scratch its neck. "Change back and we can go to the movies or dancing or anything you want."

The dog simply laid his head back down on his front two paws and looked up at Kurt with expressive green eyes.

"Or don't change," Kurt offered, "and we can go to the park. We'll play ball. You can chase squirrels and children. It'll be fun."

If a dog could roll his eyes, Sebastian definitely did.

"Ugh," Kurt exclaimed, standing back up and looking down his own naked body to consider the dog lying at his feet. Kurt had to come to terms with the fact that maybe there just wasn't a quick fix to Sebastian's problem.

"I wish you'd just tell me what I could do to help," Kurt murmured.

The dog's eyes followed Kurt, tilting his head to the side as if thinking about what Kurt had just said. The dog stood, eyes fixed on Kurt's gaze, then he quickly nuzzled Kurt between the legs with his muzzle, stepping back with questioning eyes. Kurt considered the gesture, and smiled.

"Of course, Bas," Kurt said. "If you change, we can have sex."

The dog shook his head and repeated the motion, nuzzling between Kurt's legs.

Kurt raised an eyebrow at the dog who stared back with hopeful green eyes. When Kurt still didn't seem to understand what the Rhodesian wanted, the dog repeated the motion one more time, this time pushing Kurt forward until he stepped backward, the backs of his knees connecting with the mattress.

All the tumblers clicked, and Kurt smiled, shaking his head.

"Uh-uh," Kurt said. "Nope. No, we are not doing that."

Sebastian had talked to Kurt a few times about being sexually intimate while he was in his dog form. Nothing too strange. He had this fantasy of going down on Kurt while he was the Rhodesian. He had confessed that once or twice while Kurt slept Sebastian had shifted and tasted Kurt, and his heightened canine senses had craved more ever since.

It just seemed so dirty to Kurt. Not physically dirty. Sebastian was the most immaculate dog Kurt had ever seen, last of a bloodline of royalty who were able to transform into dogs at will. And Kurt had to admit, as a dog Sebastian was beautiful – strong and tall, and so regal. But it just felt immoral, being sexual with an animal, even though inside the body of the dog was the soul of his boyfriend.

Sebastian nuzzled him again, this time pushing forward until Kurt sat on the bed. Then he put his head on Kurt's leg, looking up at him with round, sad eyes, whining pitifully. Kurt bit his lip.

"Sebastian," he groaned. "Do I have to?"

The dog yipped once in response, hopping up onto the bed, and circling the mattress excitedly while Kurt made his way to the head of the bed and lay down.

"Just…watch those teeth," Kurt muttered, doing his best to get comfortable with the idea that he was going to let a dog go down on him. The Rhodesian stopped for a moment to lick Kurt's face, running his tongue over his cheek, his jawline, and his neck.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Kurt said, pushing the dog away, "let's…just get this over with."

The dog settled himself by Kurt's side with his head resting on Kurt's stomach. Kurt could feel the dog's hot breath over his flaccid cock, and sighed, trying to relax, closing his eyes and imaging his gorgeous boyfriend laying beside him. Kurt felt the first touch of the Rhodesian's tongue flicking over the head of his cock and jumped. It was different, rough and hot and a little dry. Kurt tried to relax into it, tried to focus on just the feeling of a tongue lapping at his cock and not focusing on the fact that the tongue belonged to a dog. After two dozen or so lazy licks, Kurt still wasn't even half-hard and he could hear the Rhodesian growl.

"I'm sorry, Sebastian," Kurt groaned. "This is just a little strange, that's all."

The dog stood up and readjusted, settling between Kurt's legs. He nosed behind one of Kurt's knees, and then the other, until Kurt's legs were bent with his feet flat on the mattress. Kurt scoffed, rolling his eyes. Boyfriend or not, he was still taking orders from a dog.

"Alright, Bas," Kurt said, peeking down at the dog that looked back expectantly at him. "What now?"

The ridgeback licked with his broad, flat tongue from between the crack of Kurt's ass, over his balls, up his cock – all power and little finesse, but it didn't matter. That tongue, wide and long, seemed to be in three places at once, and Kurt moaned after that one touch.

"OhmyGod!" he whined when the dog licked him again, yipping happily when Kurt became hard in an instant.

"Yeah, yeah, you're brilliant…just, do that again," Kurt muttered, reaching between his legs to grab at the scruff of the dog's neck. "Just…keep doing that before I start thinking about this too much."

The dog snuffled in a way that sounded like Sebastian chuckling, but he went back to licking flat stripes from Kurt's puckered entrance, over his balls, all the way up his cock. Kurt shivered with each pass, clawing at the pillow beneath his head.

"Oh God, Sebastian!" Kurt cried, arching his back. The dog's tongue wound around Kurt's shaft, lapping and caressing while Kurt moaned shamelessly, his hands grabbing roughly at the scruff of the dog's neck.

"Yes…yes….yes…" Kurt chanted, feeling his hips shudder, his whole body building with heat, successfully pushing aside the revulsion of having oral sex with a dog. Kurt was close to cumming, and beneath his hands he felt the dog's silky fur change into smooth, human skin; the tongue around his cock becoming smaller and the mouth that circled him wetter. Sebastian took Kurt into his mouth, his human mouth, and swallowed around him, growling with what was left of the animal in him. Kurt bucked and cursed and came down Sebastian's throat, threading his fingers through Sebastian's hair and tugging hard.

"Oh God…oh God…" Kurt continued to moan as he came down from his high, still with Sebastian's mouth completely engulfing his rapidly softening cock. Sebastian chuckled a bit as Kurt disentangled his fingers from his boyfriend's hair.

"Did you like that, gorgeous?" Sebastian asked, crawling up Kurt's body to talk to him for the first time all afternoon.

"Yeah," Kurt panted, letting Sebastian claim his lips, tasting himself on Sebastian's tongue. "What made you change back?"

"I…may have gotten a little jealous," Sebastian admitted, kissing Kurt again and again until he was nearly breathless. "I like that, but you're mine. No one else gets to have you. Not even my dog."

"So, does that mean we're not going to do that again?" Kurt asked, sounding and feeling oddly disappointed.

"I didn't say that," Sebastian said, tracing down his cheek with gentle fingertips.

"So what did you want to do now?" Kurt said, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and holding him tight.

"Well, I was kind of hoping it was my turned to get licked," Sebastian whined into Kurt's ear.

"But I'm not a dog," Kurt said. "I might not be as good as you."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, pinching Kurt's chin with his thumb and forefinger.

"I think your pretty little mouth will do just fine," Sebastian said, pecking a quick kiss to Kurt's lips and pushing him by his shoulders down his body.


	62. The Reality of You

**A/N:** _The second part to The Idea of You, that I wrote for Kurtbastian week. In the original story, Kurt finds an anonymous journal in the library and reads it, and when he does, he starts falling in love with its owner. The second part shows you what happens right after. There will be one more part to this story._

"Kurt! Kurt wait! Kurt stop!"

Kurt couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop, because stopping would mean facing whatever Sebastian had to say. What could he say? He wrote the journal. He couldn't lie it away. But there was another option, and that scared Kurt more than all the taunts and insults and jabs that Sebastian could sling.

So Kurt kept on running, but Sebastian was faster, being a touch more athletic, and he caught up to Kurt before he could escape to the senior commons.

"Leave me alone, Sebastian," Kurt cried when he felt Sebastian's hands curl into his blazer and drag him to a halt. "Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it."

"Well, too bad, princess," Sebastian said, pushing Kurt up against the nearest wall inside a small recess out of sight of the main hall. "You read my journal, so now you have to let me explain."

"Fine," Kurt said. He shook Sebastian's hand off his shoulder and crossed his arms over his chest. "You have five minutes. Explain."

Sebastian sighed, looking down at his feet to avoid gazing into Kurt's eyes because if he did, he'd tell him everything; all the feelings he kept locked inside, all the things he wasn't ready to admit to anyone, not even himself, which was why he started the journal in the first place. Kurt's eyes had a strange power over him. They definitely had the power to undo him completely.

He opened his mouth several times, finding different places to start, but he couldn't do it. Not an inch of truth would come out.

"Four minutes," Kurt counted down, and Sebastian scowled.

"God, you're such a fucking know-it-all bitch, aren't you?" Sebastian groused. Sebastian finally found strength enough to meet Kurt's glare eye to eye.

"Look, I don't know what you think you read in this book…" he started his lie, but Kurt stopped him.

"I think the boy who wrote that book is scared," Kurt said softly. "I think that book is the story of someone overwhelmed by his feelings, who doesn't know how to express them…"

Sebastian wanted to argue, wanted to cut Kurt down and leave no doubts that he was wrong, but he wasn't wrong. Sebastian had been holding onto the truth for so long, he was tired of hiding from it anymore.

His lie died on his lips and he sighed, bowing his head, pressing so close to Kurt it was almost uncomfortable.

"Did you finish it?" Sebastian asked, looking down at the book in his hands.

"No," Kurt said with a shake of his head.

Sebastian nodded. He put the book gently in Kurt's hand, and closed his fingers around it.

"All I ask is that you don't show it to anyone else," Sebastian said, his voice shaking a bit. "After that, just…pitch it…or burn it. I don't care. But I'm done talking about this."

Sebastian turned and left without looking back. Kurt heard his heavy footsteps ring down the marble hallway until they became fainter and fainter.

Kurt looked down at the book in his hand and for the first time saw it for what it was.

Self-preservation.

Sebastian should have felt lighter, a weight lifted by giving up that infernal book. In essence, by giving up that journal, he also gave up his obsession with Kurt Hummel.

So why did he feel sick to his stomach?

Giving up his journal was risky. It was the most private, most personal – most real thing he owned. It was literally his heart and soul scrawled over about a hundred or more pages, but he had a feeling that Kurt, for all of his flaws (whatever they may be) would not be the kind of asshole to show it around.

Over the next week, the damned thing haunted Sebastian. He saw it just as much now that Kurt had it as he did when it was in his possession. Everywhere Kurt went, he carried the journal with him. At first, it annoyed Sebastian to no end. He wanted to just snatch it away from him and throw the fucking thing out himself, but he couldn't, because as much as it was a reminder to him of his feelings, it also made him feel like Kurt was carrying a part of him around with him. Sebastian watched Kurt carefully. He saw how protective Kurt was of it, he watched Kurt's face when he read it – the way his lips lifted into a tiny smile, or dipped into a frown. A few times Kurt gasped, putting his hand up over his mouth, and Sebastian wished he could peek over Kurt's shoulder, wondering what in the world he had written that would elicit that kind of response.

Just then, Blaine came up behind him and tried to read over Kurt's shoulder. Sebastian had an urge to get up and shove him out of the way, tell him to mind his own business, but Kurt got to it first, slamming the book shut, and when he did, Sebastian got a glimpse of something new – a gold fabric bookmark that Kurt had wedged between the pages. Sebastian felt a warm tingle all over at the idea that Kurt got a special bookmark just for his pathetic journal. If Sebastian wasn't so totally head-over-heels (and he had to admit that he was head-over-heels at this point) it would have made him sick.

Sebastian couldn't tell what Kurt and Blaine were talking about, but Blaine reached a hand out to try and open the journal back up, and Kurt swiftly slapped him on the back of the hand, causing Blaine to pull his hand back with a cartoonish look of hurt on his face. Sebastian chortled, and when both faces turned toward him, he bolted from his seat and rushed away.

Sebastian used to write in the journal at nights in his room, when his homework was finished and he was alone with his thoughts. But now those thoughts just kept him awake, with no outlet to rid himself of them. He originally thought of buying another journal and starting up again, but the purpose of giving away the journal was to stop writing about Kurt.

Besides, his thoughts belonged with the original book…and its new owner.

"Well, shit," Sebastian muttered after his fifth night of insomnia. He pushed himself out of bed, ready to perform an act of unadulterated self-harm. He pulled out from his desk drawer an antiquated writing set his mother had bought him his freshman year, proving that she really didn't know much about her only son. It was a calligraphy set complete with faux parchment paper and a whole selection of pens with fancy silver writing nubs and multi-colored inks. It even came with a wax sealer, and a die with just his initial on it.

He could have just gotten out a pen and a regular sheet of notebook paper, but he thought that maybe Kurt would like this better.

_"It's late…_

_And the school is dark and quiet and cold…_

_And I can't help thinking how much warmer it would be…_

_If you were with me…"_

Sebastian folded the brief letter and stuck it into a parchment envelope. Then he dug out a lighter and melted the wax, waiting patiently until enough of the wax had collected on the paper. He pressed the die into the warm wax and when he pulled it away, he was pleased to see a perfect 'S'. He took the small letter and carried it down the quiet hall to Kurt's room and slipped it beneath the door, with a flip-floppy feeling in his stomach – equal parts elation and nausea.

Kurt never approached Sebastian to tell him that he received the note. Regardless, Sebastian sent him a new one every night.

_"You always have to find a way to be you…_

_Stuck in this boring prison _

_of academia and tradition…_

_Today you wore a blue Lion's Head brooch on your blazer…_

_And even though it was small and relatively indistinguishable…_

_It was just another way of saying, "Fuck you, world! I'm Kurt Hummel"_

As the days went by, Sebastian began to notice the journal growing, puffing up with the additional letters that Kurt glued onto empty pages in the back of the book, till Kurt was balancing his world history book and his calculus book on top of it to keep it from bursting open.

"Kurt, can we talk?"

Blaine fidgeted where he stood above his boyfriend, shifting from foot to foot. Kurt looked up at him from over his copy of _Macbeth_ and smiled, but like most of his smiles lately, this one didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Sure," Kurt said, kicking a chair out from under the table and motioning for Blaine to sit. Blaine took the chair, and looked around, noticing the journal Kurt always carried around with him, the one he never let Blaine read, pressed beneath two of his text books.

"What's with that journal?" Blaine asked, taking a tangent from his original subject of discussion to address Kurt's latest obsession.

Kurt shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. He didn't like it when Blaine tried to get him to talk about the journal. In some ways he felt wrong carrying it around with him, with being in love with it so much…with the feelings he might be starting to have for Sebastian; feelings he refused to admit, though it was getting more and more difficult with every new letter that found its way underneath his door. On the other hand, Blaine was a little far from a perfect boyfriend himself lately. He hadn't asked Kurt out on a date for the past two weeks. Romance had been limited to late night sexting. But the worst part was the way Blaine had started treating Kurt in Warbler rehearsal. He was always so paranoid about how everyone would perceive him now that he was dating Kurt. He didn't want to seem like he was playing favorites, which Kurt definitely understood, but that meant Blaine either tore down all of Kurt's ideas when he came up with one, or he simply didn't acknowledge him at all.

"I told you, it's just something that gives me inspiration," Kurt said. It was a lie of omission. It did give him inspiration. Sebastian's words of love and devotion gave him inspiration.

"Then, why won't you let me read it," Blaine asked, staring at it as if Kurt would just turn it over to him if he looked at it long enough.

"Because it's private," Kurt said, like he had many times before. "And I don't feel comfortable with you reading it."

Blaine sighed, not ready to continue this argument here in the library.

"I wanted to ask if we could talk about what happened in Warbler practice earlier today," Blaine started slowly, "with that suggestion you made for a Sondheim medley."

"You mean the one you shot down without even putting it to a vote?" Kurt bit back. He had just managed to forget about that little piece of humiliation he had to suffer today, especially in front of the other Warblers…and Sebastian.

"Yeah…um…I was hoping that maybe…you'd stop doing that."

Kurt's eyes flicked up from his book and he glared at Blaine.

"What do you mean, 'stop doing that'?" Kurt asked, his voice flat but venomous. Blaine shifted in his seat, looking down at his folded hands, and then back up at Kurt.

"Yeah, Kurt. When you make suggestions like that, you kind of put me in a difficult position."

"What position is that, Blaine?" Kurt asked, an edge of irritation coloring his voice. "The one where you act like a mature, benevolent leader and let the Warblers decide if my idea is a good one, or the one where you treat me like I'm five and humiliate me?"

"Look," Blaine said, "I know you're upset, and I deserved that. But I think I found a compromise we can both live with."

"And what's that?" Kurt closed _Macbeth_ and tossed it on the table, crossing one leg over the other and looking significantly into Blaine's eyes.

"Well, when you have an idea, discuss it with me outside of Warbler rehearsal, and if I think it's feasible, I'll present it to the Warblers myself."

"You'll present it?" Kurt asked incredulously. "As in, like your idea?"

Blaine scrubbed his hands over his head and sighed.

"Kurt, I just don't know what else to do."

"You could always try…oh, I don't know…treating me like everybody else!" Kurt started gathering up his books, ready to storm out of the library.

"But you're not like everybody else, Kurt."

Kurt stopped. For the past few weeks he had been waiting for a moment – like the one in the library when he first found the book and first started falling in love with its mysterious author. _This_ was a moment. Blaine might still have it in him to be the romantic boy that Kurt fell in love with. They could pull through and make it, and that journal Kurt had been carrying around…maybe it was just a book. What Kurt had with Blaine was real. Somewhere deep inside he felt that it was a possibility.

"I'm not?" Kurt asked, watching Blaine's face change, morphing into a soft, boyish smile.

"Of course not," Blaine said. "You're my boyfriend, and because of that we have to be careful."

Kurt sighed. The moment disappeared, but Kurt owed it to Blaine to give him another chance.

"Blaine, can you do me a favor?" Kurt asked, eyes flicking down to the overflowing journal.

"Anything."

"I'll agree to your…compromise," Kurt said, the last word causing bile to rise to his mouth and sting his tongue, "if you do something for me."

"What is that?"

"Write me a poem?" Kurt beseeched, eyes pleading with Blaine for him to be a better boyfriend than he'd been for the past few weeks.

"Write you a poem?" Blaine asked, his nose scrunching.

"Or a story, or a song, or three sentences describing something you like about me. Just something that's yours…before next Warbler rehearsal."

"Sure," Blaine said, sounding a bit confused. "Anything for you, Kurt."

Kurt sighed, relaxing into the crook of his boyfriend's arm when he wrapped it around his waist and led him along.

That night, Kurt sat up in his bed in the dark and considered all the decisions he'd have to make in the next few days. He was sure his choice would be easy. Blaine would definitely come through for him. He'd have his poem or his song or his three sentences. Maybe they could turn it into a thing, start their own journal, writing back and forth little poems of love and devotion and it would only make their relationship stronger.

Kurt thought about the possibilities all day, about new beginnings and second chances. When he reached the rehearsal room, he saw Blaine talking with Thad and Trent. He bounced over to him and put out an expectant hand, grabbing at the air with his fingers. Blaine smiled, wide and warm, and slipped his hand into Kurt's, turning back to his conversation with the other two boys. Kurt frowned, shaking his hand from Blaine's grasp and repeating the motion again.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked. "What's the matter?"

"Isn't there something you want to give me?"

Blaine stared blankly at Kurt, and then his eyes went wide.

"Oh God! Kurt! I'm so sorry. I forgot."

Kurt's hand dropped from the air, his entire body shrinking as Blaine rambled off excuses about putting together set lists and modifying arrangements, but Kurt stopped listening. He looked around the room at the boys clustered in groups in corners, talking together and otherwise ignoring them except for one, standing by an armchair by the door, looking at him with sympathetic green eyes. Kurt turned away from Blaine, probably mid-sentence, and headed straight for Sebastian. Sebastian's eyes shifted left and right, his brow furrowing at Kurt's determined approach. Kurt reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a book – a journal, nowhere near as fancy or expensive as Sebastian's, but neat and clean and so completely Kurt. He handed the journal to Sebastian, waiting a moment for him to take it. Sebastian felt his heart in his chest, racing desperately to be free of its cage. He reached out carefully and took the book, taking a moment to flip through it and see page after page written in Kurt's delicate, flowing handwriting.

Sebastian said nothing, simply held the book to his chest, as if protecting it symbolically from the eyes of the world. Kurt smiled and nodded, leaving the rehearsal room without a single look at his stunned boyfriend.

Sebastian looked up at Blaine, watching his hazel eyes bounce frantically between him and Kurt. Sebastian slid the journal into his bag and away from Blaine's view. He didn't want Blaine looking at it, or anyone for that matter. The journal belonged to Kurt and Kurt gave it to him. Sebastian picked up his bag and followed suit, leaving the rehearsal room on his way to his own room.

For the first time, Blaine Anderson realized that if he didn't do something quick, he was going to lose his boyfriend.


	63. Company's Coming

**A/N:** _For those of you reading the Last Scion verse, here is another chapter. Several of you asked for a little background into how Kurt and Sebastian met, how Kurt became the Scion, what the Scion is, etc. I hope this answers some of those questions :) Sort of a kid!fic, supernatural, loosely based off of religious themes. Warning for the death of a major character (not Kurt or Sebastian)._

"Daddy! "Daddy!" Kurt called, racing down the staircase, proudly holding the large diamond-shaped kite in front of him. He'd been working on it alone in his room all day; painstakingly measuring the dowels for the frame and searching for the thinnest fishing wire he could find to bind them together. He spent hours tracing and cutting colored tissue paper, gluing it down and trimming the edges until the whole kite was seamless. When he finished, it looked more like a giant stained glass window than a child's homemade kite.

Kurt bounded down the stairs two at a time in his excitement, which made the silk tail of the kite bounce behind him as if they were flying together. Kurt felt like he _was_ flying, free as a bird in the sky, touching the clouds, soaring as high as the stars, maybe even finding a way to talk to his mother again.

Kurt and his father didn't even have time to mourn her properly after the car accident. They didn't go to her funeral or visit her grave. Kurt remembered so clearly the look in his father's eyes when they received the call that she was dead. It wasn't just anger, wasn't just sadness. It was fear. Fear so powerful that his dad packed anything they could fit into their Navigator and left Lima then and there.

Kurt swore that someday he'd go back to Lima and say good-bye to his mom, with an armful of her favorite white roses and baby's breath, and maybe this kite so she'd know how hard he had tried to find her.

Kurt could hear his father muttering when he dropped down off the last pair of steps and headed for the kitchen. His father did that sometimes – talked to his mom as if she were there, telling her about their day and how much he missed her. But his father wasn't alone. Another voice answered his father back, and when Kurt heard it, he froze solid where he stood outside the kitchen door.

Kurt heard a strange man's voice; a voice he didn't recognize, a voice he was certain he had never heard before. It wasn't a mean or sinister voice, but something about it frightened Kurt, like as if this stranger had the power to change Kurt's life forever. The man and his father talked together in the strained, hushed way adults do when they want to be sure that children won't hear.

"This is a matter of life and death," the voice whispered. "Not just for you and Kurt. Burt, the time has come. Even without the danger to his life, he'd have to come to the temple. We need to protect him. Elizabeth knew it. She had premonitions. That's why she called us before…"

"I can protect him," he heard his father hiss. His father's voice sounded dark and dangerous in a way Kurt had never heard before. Even though his dad wasn't talking expressly to him with that voice, Kurt took a defensive step back away from the door. "If he's not safe here, we'll leave. I'll take him out of the state, out of the country, wherever he can be safe."

"And where is that, Burt?" the voice retorted, volume raising slightly. "Maybe, _maybe_ you can hide him from the sects and the cults and the other orders, but what about the demons, Burt? There's no way to hide him from the shadows. They _will_ find him. What on heaven and earth do you think you, an acolyte, can do that hundreds of trained clerics can't? He's not safe out here, and you're being foolish to think…"

Kurt clenched his teeth, feeling his ire rising at the sound of someone insulting his father. His father wasn't a foolish man. In fact, Burt Hummel was the most practical adult that Kurt had known in all his eight years on the planet, and he wouldn't let anyone come into their house and tell him different. He left his kite on the sofa and pushed through the door, stomping into the kitchen loudly to make his presence and his anger known.

Two heads popped up and snapped in his direction, eying the boy that stormed into their private meeting with a scowl on his adorable, pale face. Burt reached out to his son, but the other man stood, and Kurt was surprised to see that he wore some kind of bright colored robes; the same kind of robe he had once seen his father and mother wearing in an old photograph that used to hang on their living room wall. The man was close to his father's age, and had the same world-weary expression on his tired face.

"Daddy?" Kurt eyeballed the stranger suspiciously as he spoke; his blue eyes never leaving the man's face. "Who is this?"

"Kurt, this is Tellemband," his father said, clearing his throat to rid it of their previous conversation. "He was a friend of your mother's and mine from a long time ago."

The man smiled down at Kurt with an expression of wonder that Kurt didn't quite understand. The man reached out a hand and Kurt took it politely, but the man jerked back as if electrocuted, his smile growing wider from the shock.

"He's a powerful boy already," Tellemband said, wringing his hands together. "Now, I must insist, Burt…"

"Say good-bye to daddy's friend," Burt interrupted, pulling Kurt behind the shield of his body. "We have a lot to do before nightfall."

Tellemband sighed, shaking his head.

"Actually, I do have to go to Westerville to pick up another boy."

Burt's green eyes went wide, his entire face perking up with a hopeful expression.

"You mean you found another…"

"No," Tellemband said softly. "A priest. One of the many."

Tellemband stepped closer to Burt, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Burt," Tellemband said, "Company's coming. They're coming for your son."

Kurt saw his father's resolve slipping at those ominous words, and Kurt clung to his dad's hand, praying that whatever he decided to do it wouldn't mean turning him over to this man. Kurt didn't know how he could possibly survive without his father, especially with his mother gone. Burt squeezed his son's hand tight.

"We'll be fine," Burt said, and at that moment Kurt believed his father to the end of the world and back. They would be fine. His dad would protect him like he always did. There was nothing that could touch them. Kurt nodded on his father's behalf when the man in the robes looked down at him.

Tellemband knelt in front of Kurt. A small glimmer of gold caught his eye, and Tellemband looked around Kurt's neck where a thick gold chain rested with a simple cross dangling below his collar bone. Tellemband reached out to it, his fingertips hovering above it without touching it.

"Your mother gave you this," Tellemband said, recognizing the blessed charm.

Kurt nodded once in reply.

"Hold onto it," Tellemband said with a hint of urgency. "Whatever you do, don't take it off…don't let it go."

It sounded like an innocent enough piece of advice to Kurt; unnecessary though since he never took the cross off, but it seemed to anger his father.

"Go…now." Burt said the words clipped and tight. He pulled Kurt farther behind him until the boy was almost back up against the wall. "And forget that you saw us."

Tellemband took Kurt's hand quickly and muttered a few, quick words that Kurt thought he recognized, though they weren't in English. They sounded like Latin…more specifically a prayer in Latin that his mother used to recite. Kurt's mother taught him a bunch of different prayers, and Kurt learned them diligently, but only because he loved his mother. He wasn't sure that he believed in a God, especially now when this supposedly benevolent, loving, grandfatherly person his mother always talked about saw fit to take her away from him.

Tellemband rose to his feet before Burt could object to the prayer. With a single long glance back at Kurt where he hid behind his father's legs, Tellemband showed himself to the door. Kurt waited until the stranger's car started and pulled off down the road before he looked up at his father. Burt sighed and leaned against the wall. He pulled his baseball cap off his head and scrubbed a hand over his face and into his hair.

"Are we going to have to leave again, daddy?" Kurt asked, staring up at his father with sad eyes. He didn't like leaving their home in Lima, and he had grown fond of the cozy family farmhouse where they had taken refuge over the last few weeks. He wasn't quite ready to say good-bye again.

"I'm afraid so, kiddo," Burt said. He looked down at his young son, his tiny body hunched over with his eyes fixed on the hardwood floor. Maybe Burt should have gone along with Tellemband's plan. This wasn't any kind of life for an eight-year-old, running from people who would try to kidnap him and use him…or worse. Burt bordered on the edge of a decision, but for now he needed to cheer up his son. "But, if I remember correctly, weren't you making a kite?"

Kurt's head perked up immediately, his cherubic face lighting up with the thought of running through the field outside with his dad, trying to get his kite in the air, hopefully succeeding in sending a message to his mom as well.

Kurt retrieved his kite where he left it on the couch and dragged his father outside, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the door. Burt and Kurt ran all around the dry field for hours trying to get his kite aloft, but not a single breeze blew. No matter how hard they tried the kite stayed grounded. The late afternoon didn't feel hot, but it was still and quiet, as if the whole world were holding its breath and waiting for something to happen.

After a while, Burt felt it, too, and he knew Tellemband was right. He had to get Kurt away.

Kurt fell asleep on the sofa while his father loaded up the car. Burt had become a pro at tetris-ing their belongings in the vehicle. He could have probably drawn out a map of exactly where everything fit if such a thing had been called for.

Night came early, unnaturally early, and even though Kurt fell to sleep hard and fast, he had a hard time warding off the nightmares. Several times he tried to pull himself from the oblivion he found himself trapped in, but it pressed in on him; wrapped around him like a thick, heavy blanket. No matter where he ran in his dream, he couldn't escape it.

He felt like he was being stalked.

Kurt's father tried to shake him awake, but for all of his struggling Kurt couldn't force himself to open his eyes. His father's voice wavered slightly as he tried to rouse his son, but then he finally gave up and picked Kurt's body up off the couch.

They barely made it out the farmhouse door before the demons arrived. They grew out of the shadows, seeped in from the darkness of the moonless night outside, formed their shapeless bodies out of the dust and filth covering the floor and hanging in the air. Their evil hissing and foul stench finally woke Kurt from his sleep, but this nightmare was worse than any he had before. He could feel the vile mist wrap itself around his wrists and ankles and try to pull him from his father's arms.

Burt muttered prayers between curses, flailing to find the right blessing, the right spell that would drive the demon forces back, or at least part a path that would lead to the car and to freedom. Quickly Burt became covered by the malicious force and he dropped Kurt to the ground, shoving him with the strength he had left out the door, but Kurt refused to leave his father, even as the malevolent presence attempted to consume him whole.

Kurt could feel the prayers his father uttered move through him. He felt his lips recite them even though these particular prayers he had no conscious memory of. He felt his body become hot; white hot. Burning from the inside out with a light brighter than any he'd ever felt or seen. It filled every inch of his body and shot out in all directions – from his eyes, from his mouth, from the follicles of his hair, from the pores on his skin. The light flowed out of him, filling the dark spaces, every corner reflecting the radiant glow. It singed the shadows, eradicated everything evil in its path, and when it was gone, it disappeared entirely; not a trace of it left behind.

The only thing Kurt could see in the doorway of the quaint little farmhouse he had hoped to call home was his father, his twisted body unmoving, unbreathing. That crushed him so completely he fell immediately unconscious, unaware of the muffled footsteps racing toward him.

The next time Kurt opened his eyelids, he saw inquisitive green eyes staring back at him.

Kurt remembered saying 'hello' to the owner of those eyes. That word should have been there, but the conversation wove in and out of his thoughts, as if it were coming at him in between two radio stations, with verbal static cutting through, overwhelming the words. Kurt heard a distant muttering, something he didn't quite recall in this memory, but he knew it. Even without having to hear it clearly, he knew the words being spoken. He had recited the prayer himself, but along with it, floating beneath it, was something he heard not with this head, but with his heart.

"Kurt?"

A soft, unsure voice pierced the void.

"Kurt…wake up."

Kurt recognized it. It reminded him of love and hope and home. He wanted so much to follow it, but he had trouble pinpointing its direction.

"Kurt, please wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Kurt felt something cool touch his feet, his hands, his forehead. A sweet, warm scent filled his nostrils when he breathed. Frankincense. It filled him with a tremendous calm and peace, drawing him away from his anxiety; leading him away from memories of suffering and pain.

He blinked once and saw those same eyes, green and clouded with worry, but these eyes were older and remarkably wiser. He blinked again, and Sebastian's entire face came into view, his cheeks pink, his hair beautifully bedraggled. Sebastian hovered above Kurt, shirtless, dressed only in his boxer shorts, straddling Kurt's legs, praying over him in much the same way Tellemband prayed over Kurt in his memory.

"That's the fifth nightmare this week," Sebastian pointed out when Kurt's eyes became focused and clear.

Kurt nodded, reaching a trembling hand to touch the cross hanging from the chain around his neck.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Kurt said with a sad shake of his head. "Not really. I…I saw my father die again. And I met you. Do you remember that?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"I might have a vague recollection of that night."

Kurt smiled weakly. Sebastian felt his heart jump at that tremulous little twist of Kurt's lips, that in Kurt's pain Sebastian could still make him smile.

"Do you know what the dream means?" Sebastian asked, holding Kurt's quivering hands in his own.

Kurt felt like that frightened boy again when he looked into Sebastian's eyes. He stuttered over the first consonant, trying to get the sound past his parched throat.

"C-company's coming."

Sebastian's eyes swept across the darkened hotel room, at the front door and the broomstick standing straight and stolid beside it, at the pendulum on the bedside table that hung in place and didn't sway; all of these indicating the exact opposite of what Kurt said, but Sebastian trusted Kurt more than all the totems and symbols in the world.

"Alright," Sebastian said firmly. "We'll leave. Tonight."

Sebastian wrapped his arms around Kurt and held him, trying to calm the tremors that shook his body. Sebastian shut his eyes, murmuring the first prayers of calming he ever learned in the hopes they would help soothe Kurt's troubled soul. Sebastian closed his eyes and concentrated on the words of the simple prayer, but with the scent of Frankincense in the air and Kurt's body in his arms, his mind started to drift.

* * *

Sebastian paced the floor of the priest's tiny quarters, like a large cat prowling behind the bars of a too small cage. He had managed to escape the dormitory twice in the first twelve minutes since the older priest dropped him off and left. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate what the priest had done for him. After all, his dad would have done some permanent damage for sure if he had managed to hit him across the face one more time with that wine bottle. As it was, Sebastian's nose throbbed from what the priest had diagnosed as a 'wicked break'. But Sebastian had been making moves to start his own money laundering scheme, and he couldn't do that from behind these walls.

Sebastian had underestimated the priests and their ability to keep him on lock-down. He thought for sure he could slip right by them unseen, since they all seemed completely preoccupied with the arrival of some new, important visitor; someone they had been waiting for forever by the sounds of things. After his second attempt to break free, an annoyed, squat looking man locked him in the priest's cell till his return. The term 'cell' was apparently what they called their bedrooms, but it was a perfect word for it. The room had enough space for a bed and a dresser. There were no posters or pictures on the walls except for a single cross, but most distressing was the lack of windows.

Sebastian decided he would wait for someone to open the door and make a break for it. It wasn't the most elegant plan, but it was the only one he had.

The muted buzz of conversation outside morphed into a distinct pair of voices coming his way, and Sebastian poised himself for a breakout.

"So that's really him?" a flat, unimpressed voice asked. "I thought he might be more, I don't know…more…"

Sebastian recognized that voice as belonging to the man that locked him in here. He would have to consider how much ground he might lose if he stopped long enough to kick him hard in the shin.

"Bite your tongue, Grumbald," another voice said. "He may be unconscious, but you are still speaking in the presence of the chosen. Whatever your perceptions of what he should be are flaws of yours, not his."

Sebastian knew this priest, too. He remembered that voice arguing with his father a few short hours ago.

"My apologies," Grumbald offered in an extremely unconvincing way. "I didn't mean any offense. But while we're on the subject of flawed boys, about this new acolyte you found today. You know, not every broken stray you bring in here can become a priest, Tellemband, and I won't have him. I have my own acolyte. Alistair. He comes from an affluent family. I have high hopes for him, and besides, his parents will be generous to the order."

"Money doesn't equal devotion, Grumbald," Tellemband scolded. "More than likely they're trying to buy their way to heaven. How come you never see this?"

Grumbald grunted, but it didn't seem to phase Tellemband in the slightest.

"I will be the boy's mentor," Tellemband said, the tone in his voice leaving no room for argument.

That didn't mean Grumbald wouldn't try.

"You…you can't be a mentor and take on the responsibility of caring for the chosen!" he groused indignantly.

The door to the cell swung open, and Sebastian took a step, preparing to bolt, but all thoughts of running left Sebastian at once when he saw the frail boy draped like a ragdoll in the priest's arms.

"Try and stop me," Tellemband challenged.

Grumbald swallowed, too apprehensive to continue arguing. His eyes fell past Tellemband and saw Sebastian smirking back at him. He sneered at the boy, but Tellemband pushed into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"So, I heard you tried to run away again," Tellemband said, addressing Sebastian without looking at him.

"You can't keep me here. You said so yourself."

Sebastian watched the man lie the unconscious boy out on his bed.

"That's right. Until you take your vows, you are free to leave whenever you wish and never return, but I don't think that's wise."

Sebastian looked over the boy's sleeping face. He had a few marks and scratches; nothing close to what Sebastian had with his now crooked nose and purple eye, but otherwise the sleeping boy's face was perfect; his skin flawless, and for some reason it angered Sebastian that someone would dare lay a hand on him.

"What happened to him?" Sebastian asked, curbing his temper. "Did his father beat him up?"

"No." Tellemband leaned over the boy and brushed a few stray hairs from his closed eyes. "His father died trying to save him. He was a good man. When he wakes up, I'll have to tell him that his father's gone, and he'll be very upset. He doesn't have any other family left in the world."

Sebastian sighed, sitting carefully on the bed beside the boy so as not to wake him.

"Who is he?"

Tellemband examined Sebastian critically, raising an eyebrow at his curiosity.

"You've been wandering around unattended. You've probably heard rumors of a special boy with peculiar powers."

Tellemband waited for an answer, and Sebastian nodded.

"Well, this is him. His name is Kurt. We call him the Scion."

Sebastian scrunched his nose, and then winced at the sharp stab of pain.

"What is that?" Sebastian asked. "The Scion?"

"Well, he's the last of a very important blood line." Sebastian looked confused at the priest's explanation. "He is a weapon, of sorts," Tellemband clarified, "for an epic battle between good and evil."

Sebastian scoffed and tilted his head, not sure whether to be annoyed that the old man was so blatantly lying to him or impressed by the creative story.

"You're shitting me," Sebastian drawled.

"Language," Tellemband scolded, and Sebastian rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not. Actually, he's the last Scion."

"So, why is he here?" Sebastian asked, deciding to humor the obviously insane man.

"The priests of this order are sworn to protect him."

Sebastian's eyes trailed back to the boy on the bed.

"So, if I stay, I have to protect him?"

Tellemband untied Kurt's shoes and slipped them off his feet while he watched Sebastian stare down at Kurt, biting his lip between his teeth.

"That's part of the job description, yes." Tellemband covered Kurt in a blanket. "But it's not a job we take lightly."

Tellemband saw the boy's mind working as he continued to pinch his lip between his teeth, eyes glued to Kurt's sleeping face. He lingered right outside the boy's view. Sebastian turned back toward Tellemband with a determined but repentant expression.

"I'm sorry I ran away," Sebastian said. "I promise I won't do it again. I want to stay. I want to become a priest and protect Kurt."

Tellemband crossed his arms over his chest and considered the boy's sudden apology.

"So, are you staying because you want to devote your life to the priesthood, or because you want to protect Kurt?" Tellemband asked.

Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest in a similar gesture.

"Does it matter?" he bit out.

Tellemband considered the boy's question.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, it doesn't." Tellemband gathered up a few books from his dresser. "I must go confer with the other priests. Would you mind staying with Kurt? In case he wakes up?"

"I'll stay," Sebastian said eagerly.

"You won't leave?" Tellemband asked sternly.

Sebastian threw his hands up in frustration at what he felt was an asinine question.

"Look, do you want me to say those stupid frickin' vows now?"

Tellemband fought not to smile at the young boy's impetuousness.

"That won't be necessary if you give me your word that you won't leave."

Sebastian took a deep, cleansing breath, and fixed the priest with the most sincere look he could conjure.

"I won't leave. I promise I won't leave."

Tellemband nodded, feeling confident that Sebastian would stay true to his word, and left the cell, not bothering to lock the door behind him.

The loud click of the door shutting startled Kurt. He blinked and his eyes fluttered open, darting around the dimly lit room, looking for danger, but instead finding another boy about his own age sitting beside him on a hard, narrow bed.

"Hello," Kurt choked out cautiously, licking dry lips.

"Hello," Sebastian said quietly.

Kurt coughed a few times and struggled to prop himself up on his elbows to get a better look around.

"Where am I?"

"You're at a temple," Sebastian said, trying to sound knowledgeable, "with priests."

Kurt furrowed his brow as he appraised the boy with the blackened eye and the bruised nose.

"Why are you here?" Kurt cocked his head.

Sebastian pulled himself up to his full height.

"I'm here to protect you," he said with all the authority he could muster.

Kurt pulled a face and almost laughed. Sebastian held his breath, hoping for the sound of Kurt's laughter.

"Are you a priest?"

"Sort of. I will be soon."

Kurt nodded, sitting further upright and crossing his legs beneath the blanket.

"What happened to your nose?" Kurt asked, pointing a finger at Sebastian's face.

"Oh…" Sebastian scooted back a bit, ashamed to admit to Kurt that his father had beaten him, especially in the face of the great sacrifice Kurt's father made. "I…broke it."

Kurt waved Sebastian over with his hand, and Sebastian crawled over the bed to join him, realizing there was nothing Kurt could ask of him that he wouldn't do. For a boy who had been dead set on starting his own criminal empire and being his own boss, it was an unusual feeling bowing to someone else.

"Here. It doesn't always work, but I'll try to fix it."

"Wh-what?" Sebastian asked, but before he could move away, Kurt placed his hand gently on the bridge of Sebastian's nose. He closed his eyes and whispered a few words. Sebastian felt a pinch in the bridge of his nose. He heard Kurt whimper and a purple bruise formed on Kurt's face, right around his eye. His nose swelled as if he had been punched but then the swelling disappeared, the black and blue bruise dissolving into the skin around it along with the few scratches and scrapes Kurt had to begin with. When Kurt opened his eyes, his alabaster skin was clear. Sebastian put a hand up to his own nose and tweaked it, amazed when it didn't send a spray of sharp pain throughout his face.

"How did you do that?" Sebastian muttered in awe, still twisting his healed nose.

"I don't know for sure. I think I absorb other people's hurt, and then it goes away," Kurt explained. "That's not all I can do, but the other stuff attracts too much attention."

"So you take the pain, and then your body heals you?" Sebastian reworded, trying to make sense of what happened to his broken nose.

"Yeah." Kurt shrugged. "I guess that's how it works."

"Well, don't ever do that again!" Sebastian said, trying to rid himself of the memory of Kurt sporting his black eye and broken nose. "Alright? Promise me?"

Kurt nodded, blushing red with a small smile on his face.

"I promise."

Kurt ducked his head and looked around again, his smile fading.

"My dad's dead…isn't he," Kurt whispered, toying with the edge of the blanket, not really asking but hoping it wasn't true.

"I…I don't think I…"

"What's your name?" Kurt asked abruptly.

Sebastian looked at Kurt with wide eyes. He felt an odd compulsion to answer Kurt's question.

"Sebastian," he said.

"Sebastian," Kurt repeated, and the sound of Kurt saying his name sent a thrill down Sebastian's spine. "Sebastian, protecting me doesn't mean keeping me from the truth. So, please…"

Sebastian sat up straight again.

"Yes," he said plainly. "Yes, your dad is dead. He died protecting you."

Kurt's face went pale and he gasped. He wanted to know. He needed to know, but he wasn't quite prepared to hear it so matter-of-factly.

Kurt stared at Sebastian for a second longer before his whole body crumbled. Sebastian rushed forward and caught him in his arms, holding his thin body as Kurt cried into the blanket.

"It's okay, Kurt," Sebastian murmured into Kurt's hair. "It'll be okay. I'm here, and I'm not going to leave you, okay?"

"Okay," Kurt sniffled, but he cried again, and Sebastian held him tighter.

Outside the cell door, Tellemband held his books to his chest, finally walking away to the great hall, knowing that the Scion, for the moment, was in good hands.

Sebastian held Kurt as tight now as he did then, hushing him gently, running oil soaked fingers through his hair to keep him cool and calm. They held on to each other, tucked into their own sphere of sanctity and silence…until that silence broke with the crack of the broom falling to the floor.

Sebastian dropped his head to Kurt's shoulder and breathed out, his entire body shuddering.

"Yup," Sebastian said. "It's time for us to go."


	64. What Would It Take?

**A/N:** _So, before I even start, let me just say I'm sorry. This is a reaction fic to the Glee episode 5x15 'Bash'. Why am I sorry? Because I know this episode was difficult for a lot of people, but this idea niggled at me until I had no choice but to write it down. Warning: mention of assault, Kurt's hospitalization, and episode spoilers._

Sebastian walks quickly down the hallway, not making eye contact with the nurses he passes, trying to look like he belongs there. This is the third time he's been there and he still hasn't gotten to see Kurt. He doesn't want much. Just a glimpse; a peek to make sure that Kurt is okay, so that he doesn't have to rely on second-hand eavesdropped information to calm his frayed nerves.

It was a fluke that he found out about the attack at all. Blaine sent out a mass text to mutual friends, asking for messages of love and support on Kurt's Facebook wall. Sebastian assumed that Blaine was so shaken up that he forgot to take him off his contact list. He didn't ask questions. He decided to do the small-minded thing and chalk Blaine's little faux pas up to fate.

The first time Sebastian showed up, the whole Scooby crew was there, holding vigil in the lobby, waiting for any word. The second time, as luck would have it, Kurt's father had just arrived. That's how Sebastian happened to find out what room Kurt was in.

Now he hopes he can slip in during the changing of the guard and get a second alone with Kurt. He has no idea what he will actually say. He kind of hopes that Kurt will be asleep and he can just stand by his side for a moment…maybe hold his hand. For once, he doesn't want to be an intrusion; he wants to be an addition. He wants to add his strength to the tower of support that surrounds Kurt Hummel.

Sebastian sees the room up ahead. He hears the blood rushing in his ears as he tries to stay as inconspicuous as possible. The door is propped open and from the direction he approaches it appears to be dark inside except for the soft blue glow of equipment lights scattered around the room. Sebastian creeps slowly to the doorway and peeks inside. His heart falls. He won't get his moment. Kurt's father sits asleep in a chair beside his son; and lying in the bed alongside Kurt is Blaine, wrapped around him partially like a vine.

Sebastian takes a step inside the room so as not to arouse suspicion from the night shift nurses bustling by. He blinks a few times to let his eyes adjust to the dim light, then takes his first good look at Kurt's face – the cut on his lip, the gash on his cheek, his black eye. He focuses on the injuries - the marks on his beautiful face, the cuts on his knuckles. Kurt fought back, and he has the scars to prove it.

Sebastian's fingers flex in the air, balling into fists, his whole body shaking with rage.

Rage at the men who beat him up; who dared lay a hand on Kurt.

Rage at Blaine for not being there when Kurt needed him. Where the fuck was he? What was so important that he would leave Kurt to walk around the city alone at night?

Rage at the frightened fuck-face who took off without even a thank you; who left Kurt to fight his battle alone.

Rage at Kurt for being so selfless, so brave, that he would put himself in danger for someone he didn't even know.

But most of all, rage at himself for being such a fucking coward. Sebastian Smythe, the big man on campus. All this time at NYU, he stalked Kurt's Facebook page, followed his posts on the NYADA blogs, always made a point to go out of his way and 'bump' into him unexpectedly, acting like a jerk or an asshole when he passed him on the street to get a rise out of him.

Never once did Sebastian tell Kurt the truth. Never once did he tell him how he really felt.

How he feels that Kurt is making a mistake marrying Blaine.

How it probably doesn't matter because he feels there is no way Kurt would fall for him now.

How he wants Kurt to give him a chance, just one chance.

He doesn't need to burden Kurt with any of this, not while he is lying unconscious in a hospital bed, but what if there was no tomorrow? What if those bastards had beaten Kurt to death?

Sebastian lets his hands fall open and the rage bleeds away.

Today is a gift. For now he has time. Whether he deserves it or not, Sebastian has another day to figure out his next move.

Why did it take having Kurt's face bashed in for him to see just how much of an ass he has been? So much time wasted. If he had played things differently, if he had changed the game, that might be him wrapped around Kurt right now…or even better. They wouldn't be in the hospital, because there's no way anyone would have touched Kurt with him around.

Sebastian sighs. It is a nice daydream, but the reality lies before him, morbidly bruised and broken, and he can't take it anymore.

There is nothing in that room that he can change. Not his charm or his sass or his money can make anything different. He backs out of the doorway, unable to look away even though he knows he has to go.

He'll try again later…and again…and again. He will find a way to make Kurt hear the confessions he keeps locked away. He knows that he isn't above doing anything now. He has no dignity. He needs Kurt, and he can't wait until another act of violence takes Kurt away from him for good.

It takes all his strength to turn away from Kurt's room and start back down the hall, but he does, the floor creaking beneath his feet along the way.

He looks away just as a pair of tired, wary eyes open for a moment and follow his slouched body walk past the door as he leaves.


	65. What Wouldn't I Do?

**A/N: **_Here is a kind of follow-up to my 'Bash' reaction one-shot 'What Would It Take?' I have to apologize for this one because it ended up a little fluffier than I originally intended, but as you can see when you read it Sebastian objects to the fluffiness, too, so I think we're all good ;) Warnings for mentions of anxiety and symptoms of PTSD. Brief mention of Kurt helping a guy being beaten, but nothing graphic whatsoever. Mention of Klaine._

Kurt is not okay. Sebastian can see it when he follows him (at a distance) to school. Kurt has been out of the hospital for more than a week, and to the outside observer Kurt looks completely recovered. He puts on a brave face that's only slightly clouded with fear. He smiles for his friends, but he doesn't quite share in their laughter, their carefree attitude as they walk down the street on their way to NYADA. His eyes dart around. He flinches inconspicuously when someone touches him unexpectedly. He walks a more hunched over than usual.

His friends appear to dote over him. They laugh too loud, talk too animatedly, but there's an undercurrent of falseness to it, as if it's all a façade; a bit too forced. Sebastian walks closer and tries to listen in on the conversation going on around Kurt. Rachel rambles on about all important _Funny Girl_ issues. Blaine has gained a few pounds. The blond boy with the big lips says something about _Star Wars_ fanfiction. This inane jabber bounces back and forth, and not a single person cares that Kurt hasn't contributed to the conversation. He floats along, muttering here and there, nodding when it's expected, but otherwise he's locked inside his own head.

Sebastian knows a few things about the way Kurt reacts to things that bother him (having been one of those things for so many years), and one of them is that he tends to distance himself, but it kills Sebastian that not one of his friends has even looked Kurt in the eyes this entire time and ask him if he's okay, or…or something. Someone should _do_ something. Sebastian isn't sure what either, and to be fair maybe his friends don't know what Kurt needs, but he doesn't need this…whatever it is. Surrounded by so many self-involved people that don't see how Kurt's hand trembles where it's wrapped around his coffee cup, or how his head pops up when someone in the distance hails a taxi or calls across the street.

Sebastian wants to reach out to Kurt. He wants to make a statement, open the door that's been closed between them for so long. He gets an idea and immediately cringes. It's not a bad idea. It's actually a good idea, if Sebastian was the corny, schmoopy, romantic type. He's not…he knows he's not. He runs away from any kind of sentiment. FTD commercials make him want to puke. But he could be the hopeless romantic if that's what Kurt needs. Sebastian sighs and pushes a hand through his hair, watching as the small mob enters the school with Kurt suspended in its midst, the nucleus of the group but oddly an outsider; the world of petty drama going on around him while he quietly clings to sanity.

Sebastian looks around and spots a flower shop across the street from the school. He hems and haws, but remembering that he swore at the hospital that he isn't above doing anything for Kurt now that he has a second chance, he finally decides to put his plan into action.

* * *

The roses start to arrive in the middle of Kurt's classes.

The first one shows up halfway through Cassie July's dance class. A student taps Kurt on the shoulder mid-tango and hands him a perfect white rose. Kurt's mouth drops, and Cassie rolls her eyes when she sees it.

"For Christ's sake, Hummel," she barks as she tries to get the class of swooning girls and their aggravated partners back on track. "You have three classes with your fiancé. Are the roses really necessary?"

"I don't have any classes with him today," Kurt informs his dance teacher coyly. She scoffs with a sarcastic smirk on her face, turning away so she doesn't have to witness Kurt fawning over his precious flower.

Kurt smiles, sniffing the perfect white rose before noticing a card dangling from a gold cord around the stem. Kurt picks it up between careful fingers and reads it.

_"There is something you must always remember…"_

Kurt furrows his brow as he reads it again, disappointed that the florist cut off the message.

That disappointment morphs into excitement when the second rose arrives in the middle of his Intro to Musical Theater lecture.

This rose is red; a bud that is days away from opening. He blushes as envious girls shoot him jealous looks. He finds the second card and reads it, eager for another piece of the puzzle.

_"You are braver than you believe…"_

Kurt gasps at the sentiment. He didn't think of himself as particularly brave when he ran to help the man being beaten in that dark alley. It just felt like the human thing to do. But everyone he loves had been lecturing him about 'being brave' as if it is a bad thing; he knows it comes from a place of fear and caring, a place of love that doesn't always express itself the way it should.

It still hurts.

When the third rose arrives, Kurt spins around beside his seat, trying to find Blaine in the gathering crowd. Kurt knows that Blaine is obviously dropping the roses off and then racing to get to class, but he wants a glimpse of him to hold on to. He doesn't see his fiancé's familiar head of gelled hair anywhere.

He sighs at his lavender rose, immediately searching out the card.

_"…stronger than you seem…"_

Kurt finally begins to recognize the passage, and groans to himself.

"Winnie-the-Pooh?" he mutters with a huge grin on his face. He rolls his eyes, but bites his lip, bouncing in his seat. Maybe it is a little campy, but Kurt can forgive campy since Blaine is trying so hard.

Kurt doesn't want to seem greedy, but he secretly hopes that another rose will arrive.

And it does. A pink rose, right at the beginning of his individual voice training lesson.

Kurt knows what the card will say even before he reads it.

_"…and smarter than you think."_

Kurt's heart swells, honestly elated for the first time since he's left the hospital.

After school he'll see Blaine, and he'll make sure to thank him properly.

* * *

Blaine is late, and Kurt waits outside with his colorful bouquet clutched to his chest. Kurt bends down and sniffs the flowers, letting their sweet scent fill his nose and tickle his head. Blaine can be prone to large, sometimes uncomfortable displays, but this…this was what Kurt needed; a constant stream of support; something special, something private, something thoughtful.

Something for the two of them to share.

When Blaine finally walks through the glass doors, Kurt attacks him with abandon, wrapping his arms around him and pecking kisses all over his face.

"Well hello to you, too," Blaine chuckles through the veil of kisses. "What's gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into me?" Kurt says breathlessly. "Oh, just the greatest fiancé in the world showering me with roses all day, that's what."

Blaine pulls back from Kurt enough to look into his eyes.

"What…"

"Oh, don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about," Kurt says, smacking Blaine lightly on the shoulder. "The gig is up. I know it was you. I mean…Winnie-the-Pooh, Blaine? You really are sappy."

Blaine looks at Kurt and notices for the first time the roses clutched in his grasp.

"I…they're beautiful, Kurt," Blaine stutters, his hazel eyes going dark with confusion, "but I didn't send them."

Kurt pulls out of Blaine's arms completely, stepping back, thoroughly unamused.

"I wish I had sent them," Blaine says, trying to find a way back into Kurt's arms again.

Blaine doesn't have another chance to comment. Rachel joins them and immediately monopolizes the conversation with furious commentary about how unfair Carmen Tibideaux is acting lately. Sam shows up, seemingly from nowhere with Artie in tow, and they start off again. Blaine seems to forget the mysterious roses altogether as he gets wrapped up in the saga of Artie's newfound popularity at his own school. Kurt sighs down at his roses, once again feeling completely alone.

They trundle along, and Kurt doesn't bother to watch where he's going. Why should he, when Blaine and Rachel and Sam and Artie and eventually Mercedes will shuffle him around to the loft, or the diner, or wherever else they want to go.

"Watch it!" Rachel hisses as a tall stranger pushes his way into their group, scattering everyone for a second. The oddly familiar looking man in an ankle length, dark grey cashmere coat brushes past Kurt, pausing long enough to hand Kurt another rose and bustle away into the oncoming crowd. Blaine dotes over a flummoxed Rachel while Sam gives Artie a once over for any damages, leaving Kurt to turn and lock eyes with the stranger, who isn't a stranger at all.

"Sebastian?" Kurt mutters at the man with the crooked yet sympathetic smile who gives him a subtle wave before hopping on the nearest bus stopped and before Kurt knows it, Sebastian is gone.

Kurt looks down at the orange rose in his grasp, a card hanging from a thin, gold cord, just like the rest, and it clicks. Sebastian sent the roses, all of the roses, but Kurt doesn't know why. Why would Sebastian spend the day sending him roses?

He fumbles for the card, reading the quote over and over.

The line on the card solves part of the riddle, and even though he's thoroughly bewildered, Kurt finds himself smiling.

_"Weeds are flowers, too, once you get to know them."_


	66. For All the Little Angels

**A/N:** _**I wrote this for the Glee Write What You Know Fest. Warnings: It's short and it's sad, so be warned. If you have triggers about losing a child, then you might not want to read it. Nothing graphic, just Kurt and Sebastian trying to cope with loss. Warnings for anxiety and PTSD.**_

Sebastian feels Kurt shift beside him, his feet kicking out at the blankets, and sighs.

_'It must be three o'clock,'_ Sebastian thinks through the heavy fog settling in his brain in place of sleep. Not that he blames his husband. Sebastian's been up since two.

He hears Kurt whimper, sniffling, struggling, and he knows it won't be long before Kurt wakes up.

Sebastian curses behind his eyelids, feeling completely impotent because he knows he cannot help him.

It's been three months, and they still haven't recovered. Three months and there isn't a day they've been able to sleep through the night without devolving into this ritual of Sebastian lying in bed, pretending to be asleep, while he waits for the nightmares to shake Kurt awake.

So many times Sebastian tried to hold him, tried to soothe him, but there is no soothing this. Nothing Sebastian can do will make it go away, and they've pretty much tried everything.

Movie marathons.

Lots of alcohol.

Unhealthy and painful amounts of sex.

Nothing helps.

Sebastian recommended therapy, but Kurt isn't ready to let a stranger in on the details of their pain, so for lack of a better way to deal with things he chooses to ride out his torment this way.

They hide themselves away.

They've pushed away all their friends. They barely talk to anyone.

They stay awake as long as they can with eyes open wide so they don't have to think about it.

But eventually sleep comes, and with it the torture of reliving every agonizing moment.

Sebastian wakes up from the screaming in his head and waits for Kurt.

Kurt sits straight up in bed, panting, breathing fast as if he has just run around the world and back. His eyes stare into the darkness as he waits for the last barbed tendrils to loosen their grip on his heart and fade away.

Sebastian rolls over on his side and opens his eyes. If he can't help, at least he can be there so Kurt doesn't have to suffer alone.

Kurt's body starts to relax. He breathes in deep, giving in to reality.

It's just the two of them.

Kurt and Sebastian.

Together, but alone.

The baby they had pinned all their hopes and dreams on…the one that was going to turn them from a couple into a family…is gone.

She was their dream, but apparently she was never meant to be.

Kurt doesn't even look at Sebastian when he reaches over the side of the bed for a ball of yarn and a size F needle, and as if he has been doing this every night of his entire life, he starts to crochet. Sebastian watches him, amazed that Kurt has done this so often he can do it in the dark. Somewhere beside Kurt's side of the bed, Sebastian knows, is a bag piled high with tiny crocheted hats.

Before they left the hospital, the day their daughter died, they passed by the nursery and saw an auxiliary volunteer putting miniature hats on preemie babies in their incubators. Kurt had stared and watched, even when Sebastian tried to pull him away. A kind nurse explained to Kurt how different organizations gather up these homemade hats and donate them to the hospital to help keep the babies warm.

This spoke to Kurt, so this was how Kurt chose to cope.

Three hundred and fifty some-odd hats later, and Kurt still hasn't stopped.

Sebastian asked him one night when enough would be enough, and a stoic Kurt simply replied, "When I can remember how to sleep through the night."


	67. A Memorable Easter Eve for Kurt Hummel

**A/N: _I wrote this for the Glee Write What You Know Fest, and yes, this is based off of a personal experience. Please note that in the real version of the story, the security guard was a fireman, and I walked the mall completely naked. _****Warning for slight implied age difference but no underage. **Enjoy :)

Blaine is right.

Working as a costumed character is the worst possible job a performer can get. It's all kinds of humiliating and demeaning. The hours are long, the costume is hot, and to make matters worse, Kurt's not even working at a theme park. He's doing a temporary stint as the Easter Bunny at the Lima Mall. He figures he'll have post-traumatic stress disorder for years to come, but he tries his hardest not to care. Wasn't it Bill Gates who said that flipping burgers wasn't beneath a person's dignity? (Of course, if Bill had to flip burgers in a bunny costume, he might have thought differently.) Money is money, and since it's Spring Break and he didn't have anything better to do, Kurt opted for any parttime job that would bring him a step closer to affording NYADA and keep him out of a Lima Bean apron.

Though he doesn't have much of a basis for comparison, this has to be by far the strangest job Kurt's ever had. The costume he's been wearing has been used by hundreds of sweaty, unwashed men and women before him, and isn't it wonderful that all he gets to wear beneath it is a Speedo? Thinking about it makes Kurt shudder. Every day he races home and showers, turning the water to scalding, trying to destroy the bacteria that he knows is breeding all over his body by now.

Despite this foray into the perils of decades-old communal clothing, Kurt decides to chalk the last two weeks up as a learning experience. For example, Kurt recently discovered that he hates kids. He's sure his opinion will change later in life when he has his own brood, but for now he wants to gather them all up and drop them into a large pit.

Thank the great spaghetti monster in the sky that his shift – his last shift as the bunny - is finally over.

It's the day before Easter and the mall is packed. When they walked Kurt to the Easter Bunny court, it was so hot in his giant bunny head he could hardly breathe. Child after child sat on his lap while he suffered in silence (since traditionally Easter Bunnies don't speak). He could feel the sweat pouring down his forehead and into his eyes with no way whatsoever of wiping it up.

In his desperation, call it a moment of weakness, Kurt considered that maybe NYADA wasn't worth this agony after all.

Eight long, painful, mind numbing hours later, the bunny handlers escort Kurt, numb from the waist down and wobbling as he walks, through the associate's exit deep into the bowels of the mall, to a storage space where they kept the Christmas decorations and the artificial tree. It is cold and the air smells stale, but it is the only space available for him to de-bunny.

Once the handlers leave to escort the new bunny up to the waiting masses already gathered around the bunny court, Kurt starts to peel off his costume; throwing it to the floor and punting it into a corner as hard as he can, glad to be rid of the damned thing. He catches his reflection in an oversized Christmas ball and scowls. His face is swollen and red from the heat inside the costume, and every inch of his skin is literally dripping with sweat. He was forced to wear his Cheerios thong instead of his swimsuit due to a lack of clean laundry, and beads of sweat have gathered along the waist band and soaked the fabric. He feels gross; grosser than gross. He feels sticky and vile and positively inhuman.

He pulls a towel from the carry on he uses to carry his clothes and starts to pat his skin dry, wishing he had remembered to pack some waterless soap, but he reassures himself that he will be home soon and this will all be but an unhappy memory. Kurt reaches for the thong, ready to roll it off his hips and be gone with it as well when a sudden loud, piercing noise echoes through the small cluttered space.

It was pounded into their heads during orientation that if the fire alarm were to go off while they were in the storage space to immediately drop what they were doing and make a run for it. The rooms with their heavy metal doors are air-tight. Anyone trapped inside could conceivably die in under a minute.

Kurt wraps the towel around his body and bursts through the door, stumbling out into the mall parking lot. He lets the door slam shut behind him before he remembers that it locks automatically. Kurt spins around…or tries to spin around, but one end of his towel is caught in the door. Kurt reaches behind him for the door handle and pulls as hard as he can, but the hefty door doesn't budge. He tugs at his towel, cringing at the thought of his Pasha Turkish combed cotton bath sheet tearing, but it doesn't matter. It's stuck, too, and the likelihood of him being able to yank it free is next to nil. He grunts in frustration, shifting from foot to foot on the cold asphalt, wrapping himself tighter in the towel as a frigid breeze skirts beneath.

Kurt swivels his head around, hoping to find someone who can help him, but even though the mall is full of people, the parking lot appears deserted. Kurt can see his Navigator, but without his keys getting in will be impossible, and he has no intention of breaking a window. His cell phone is in his bag locked inside the storage room, so there's no way to call the Calvary to come to his rescue. He starts to panic. He doesn't like feeling trapped. He doesn't like not being able to call for help. He doesn't like the idea of freezing to death in a mall parking lot, wrapped in a towel and wearing nothing but a thong.

Kurt's eyes sweep the parking lot again, standing on his toes to peer past the roofs of cars and vans lined side-by-side, and from across the mass of vehicles he sees a glimmer of hope in the form of a blinking red light headed his way. The golf cart drives slowly down the aisle, heading toward him; its driver – a young, shamefully handsome mall security guard dressed in a crisp navy blue uniform – spots Kurt almost instantly, a wolfish grin growing on his face. Kurt is not at all pleased by this turn of events. It's not the most opportune situation, but Kurt is willing to endure a few jokes and maybe a couple of leers if it means getting his clothes.

"Well, well, well," the man says, pulling up to the curb and killing the golf cart's engine. "What happened here?"

Kurt tries to match the man's smile, but his lips quiver with the cold, and he imagines his face contorting into a gas-pains sort of grimace.

"The f-fire alarm w-went off," Kurt says as his whole body shivers beneath the bath sheet, "and I got locked out."

"Okay…" the security guard drawls, "so why didn't you go inside the mall and look for help?"

"Um…I-I'm kind of st-stuck," Kurt explains, tugging the towel lightly for emphasis.

"I see." The security guard nods, the expression on his face serious even though a teasing glint twinkles in his green eyes.

Kurt stares at him for a moment, confused by the lack of any real help on the part of the security guard who simply looks back at him with an amused smile hiding at the corners of his mouth. Kurt looks at the man's name tag.

"Mr. Smith?" Kurt asks, his body shuddering with another passing breeze.

"Smythe," the man corrects. "Sebastian Smythe."

"Okay, Sebastian Smythe. D-do you think you c-can help me unlock this d-door?"

Sebastian seems to consider Kurt's question for a second, then shakes his head.

"I wish I could," Sebastian says with a shrug, "but I don't happen to have the key to this door. I'm just here in response to the fire alarm."

Kurt can hardly hear the alarm blaring through the thick door.

"Who h-has the key?" Kurt asks, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet in an attempt to keep warm.

"Well, your manager should have a key," Sebastian says.

"B-but, she's on the t-top floor of the m-mall! At the Easter B-bunny court!" Kurt cries. "C-could you g-go get it for m-me?"

"I would if I could…but I can't," Sebastian says. The security guard appears completely unswayed by the unguarded desperation in Kurt's voice, and this infuriates Kurt, who has gone long past the point of being anxious to completely pissed off.

"S-so what am I s-supposed to d-do?" Kurt argues, his voice rising in pitch and volume as his anger mounts. "I c-can't w-wait here!" Kurt struggles to keep the towel raised while he rubs over his arm with his hand, searching for warmth.

"Why don't you go upstairs and get it?" Sebastian suggests, rolling back and forth on his feet, arms crossed over his chest. "Unless…" Sebastian leans in a bit to whisper into Kurt's ear, "are you _naked_ under that towel?"

"I'm n-not naked," Kurt gasps. "I'm just…n-not entirely dressed."

His confession makes Sebastian's grin grow wider, and Kurt, flushed from embarrassment and the chill air seethes, but he decides to give asking for help one last go.

"Look," Kurt says as politely as he can muster under the circumstances, "is there any way you can help me? I'm kind of between a rock and a hard place."

Sebastian leans up against the wall beside Kurt, letting his eyes casually drift over Kurt's towel-cloaked body.

"Let me tell you what," Sebastian says, "my shift is over in about ten minutes. Agree to meet me for coffee and I'll get you your key."

Kurt's mouth drops, and the color in his face blazes across the spectrum of red another ten notches. If the human body were capable of spontaneous combustion, Kurt's would have gone super nova.

"So, you're telling me," Kurt starts in a dangerously calm and even voice, "that you will go upstairs and get me the key that I _need _in order to get my clothes if I go on a date with you?"

Kurt knows this is exactly the case, but he wants to hear it from Sebastian's lips.

"When you put it like that, it sounds kind of mean of me, sweetheart. But that's the general idea." Sebastian winks and that's the final straw for Kurt, whose hands have been practically tearing at the towel wrapped around him for the latter half of the conversation.

"You know what?" Kurt says, his whole body trembling with barely controlled rage. "Fuck you! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, and oh, by the way, fuck you!"

With that final declaration, Kurt drops his towel.

Sebastian steps back off the wall, staring with a look that's half awe, half complete and utter shock. Kurt pulls himself up to his full height, which he's surprised to find is almost exactly Sebastian's, and walks towards the entrance to the mall.

Kurt learns another interesting tidbit of information that he can put under the 'life experience' category of his shitty job checklist – if you walk through a crowded mall like you own it, you can be dressed in next to nothing and most people won't even look at you twice.

Though some people do. Some people stare. Some people curse while dragging their children in the total opposite direction. Some people whistle. Kurt's cheeks are on fire, but he pays no attention to anyone as he maneuvers through the crowds and up the escalators till he reaches the Easter Bunny court, sashays up to his straight-laced manager, and taps her on the shoulder.

She turns to look at him and her eyes go wide.

"I locked myself out of the storage room," Kurt says as nonchalantly as years of acting can help him sound with about a hundred pairs of eyes staring at his mostly naked body, "and I need the key."

She doesn't say anything. She can't seem to make her mouth move. She takes the key out of her pocket and hands it over, pulling her hand back quickly when his fingers wrap around it.

"Thank you," he says, turning around and leaving the way he came, fully aware that he's mooning parents and kids as he struts confidently out of the mall.

He thinks for sure another security guard will apprehend him before he makes it to the exit, but he's relieved when no one seems too eager to approach him, and he makes his way back to the storage locker completely undisturbed.

The little golf cart is gone and so is Sebastian, and Kurt sighs.

He has to admit that if he hadn't been freezing cold and partially naked, matching wits with Sebastian might have actually been fun, but he couldn't even consider looking for a round two without a sincere apology.

Kurt opens the door and rescues his towel, happy that the damage to his bath sheet is minimal. A quiet room greets him. He walks to where his bag lies open on the floor, letting the door swing shut once again, grateful for the air-tight seal on the fire door and the warmth of the room. He reaches down for his shirt and notices a folded piece of paper he's sure wasn't there before. He unfolds it and reads it carefully once, then again, until it finally makes sense.

_Lima Mall Incident Report_

_4:15 p.m._

_Security Officer Sebastian Smythe arrived at sector B2-14 in response to a fire alarm. A mall employee was found wearing only a towel which was caught in the fire door. S. O. Smythe questioned the employee, and instead of helping the incredibly hot guy out, he proceeded to be a humungous asshole, at which point the mall employee dropped his towel, revealing the sexiest red thong S. O. Smythe has ever seen on another human being. The employee then streaked the mall, which was definitely a sight to see._

(Kurt laughs, blushing with the knowledge that Sebastian had apparently followed him into the mall. Kurt wonders how far behind he had been walking, though Kurt was so focused on his goal he would never have noticed anyway. He wonders if that was the reason none of the other security guards stopped him.)

_S. O. Smythe offers the mall employee his sincerest apologies and would like to trade his offer for coffee to one for dinner._

_Sincerely;_

_Security Officer Sebastian Smythe_

Beneath his signature, Sebastian wrote his phone number.

Kurt giggles as he refolds the paper and shoves it in his bag.

Maybe he'll have fond memories of dressing up as a giant imaginary rabbit after all.


	68. The Lego Conundrum

**A/N:** _Someone prompted me with 'domestic Kurtbastian' and this drabble immediately popped into my head. This is another in the group that includes 'Daddies' and 'A Trip to the Doctor'. Rated NC17 for language and mention of sex._

"This is your fault, you know," Kurt gripes as he slowly makes his way across the living room carpet, plucking stray Legos from the pile and separating the blocks into different containers.

"For getting carpet instead of keeping the hardwood floors?" Sebastian smirks, watching his husband's painfully sluggish progress, shaking his head every time Kurt hisses when he finds a particularly sharp block with the heel of his hand instead of his eyes.

"That," Kurt agrees, "and for buying Thomas every single Lego known to man."

"The boy needs to be able to build whatever he wants to build," Sebastian argues.

Kurt kneels up straight and leans from side to side, pivoting at the waist to crack his tired back.

"Yeah, but he has enough Legos to build a full-scale model of Grand Central Station."

"Well, no one says you have to separate them by size and color, Captain OCD," Sebastian quips. "If you'd just grab them and toss them all together, you'd have been done an hour ago and we'd be fucking by now."

Kurt blows out a breath in frustration, tossing his hands in the air.

"You could be down here helping, you know, instead of standing around making smart remarks."

"I could," Sebastian says, his smirk curling devilishly, "but the view of your ass is so much better from up here. Besides, I've got that old war injury."

Kurt looks up at Sebastian with disgust.

"What war injury, you faker?" Kurt snaps.

"The one I got from fighting with you for all those years when you should have just given up like a good boy and agreed to be my boyfriend."

Kurt crosses his arms.

"Well, I married you, you asshat, so it looks like you won and I lost. So get down here and help me."

Sebastian tilts his head and sighs.

"You're right," he admits. "I should. But I think I'll get a beer instead."

Kurt scoffs as Sebastian winks at him and makes his way across the carpet towards the kitchen. Kurt shakes his head and bends low over the floor, gritting his teeth and getting back to the arduous job of hunting down Legos.

"God damned motherfucking shit!" Sebastian barks out suddenly. Kurt snaps his head up and sees his husband hopping around on one foot, the other foot raised and leaning against his knee. From his place on the floor Kurt can see two small red blocks lodged in the soft skin of Sebastian's arch.

Kurt smiles.

Maybe there's a God up there somewhere looking out for him after all.


	69. What Should I Say?

**A/N:** _Here's a third part that started with my 'Bash' reaction fic 'What Would It Take?' where Sebastian hears about Kurt in the hospital and tries to go see him. It continued on to 'What Wouldn't I Do?', where Sebastian tries to find a way to show Kurt that he's there to support him. Now Kurt wants to find out why Sebastian keeps following him. Will Sebastian jump at the opportunity to tell Kurt how he feels? (Warning for mention of Klaine)  
_

Kurt weeds his way through the crowd, dodging the occasional preoccupied on-comer, too busy and too wrapped up in their own issues to worry about whether they trip over him or not, but with every step he takes he feels the footsteps of the man behind him as if they are his own. They keep the same pace, the same cadence, only a step or two behind. Kurt knows when he's there without having to turn around. Kurt has gotten used to Sebastian following him most days on his way to and from school; Kurt has become so accustomed to the subtle click of Sebastian's shoes against the pavement that he can pick out the sound amid the rumble of the bustling crowd. He doesn't understand why Sebastian's always there, but he has been doing it for the better part of a week. It's confusing and reassuring all at the same time, which is why Kurt knows he needs to put a stop to it.

It doesn't bother Kurt, but he's begun to depend on it, that presence lingering behind him as he makes his way around the city. Sebastian is turning into Kurt's own personal safety net, and Kurt needs to know what that means to him. If there's one thing that Kurt is certain of, it's that he can't depend on Sebastian. Regardless of whatever this sudden change means, Sebastian isn't part of his life, has never been a part of his life.

Apparently no one has told this to Sebastian yet.

Kurt slows down and then stops short. He hears a huffed curse behind his left ear and bites his lip hard to keep from laughing.

"Do you want to get some coffee?" Kurt asks without turning around. "My treat."

There's a moment of silence, and then a long, drawn out sigh.

"Sure," Sebastian's patently annoyed voice answers. Kurt chuckles to himself. He has a peculiar urge to turn around and take Sebastian's hand, but he doesn't. Instead, he nods to a mom and pop coffee spot across the way and they walk side-by-side, separate but together, jaywalking across the busy street. When they get to the door Sebastian reaches past Kurt and grabs the handle, opening the door wide for Kurt.

Kurt pauses for a second and looks at the door, at the hand holding it open, at the tense look on Sebastian's face as he waits for Kurt to make up his mind and walk inside. Kurt smiles somewhat awkwardly and mutters a soft, "Thanks," taking advantage of the chivalrous gesture before Sebastian can change his mind and let the door swing shut in his face.

They don't speak while they stand in line, and Sebastian doesn't look at Kurt, which Kurt finds baffling. Kurt really wants answers, but he doesn't pry. He can tell Sebastian feels uncomfortable. He stands rigidly, moves stiffly as they advance towards the counter, his entire body taut as if he's preparing for a fight. Kurt can tell by the anxious glances of a few customers near them that Sebastian's intense posture comes across as at least a little intimidating, but Kurt finds it unexpectedly endearing. This guarded attitude is such a departure from the cocky Sebastian that Kurt met at the Lima Bean, the privileged prep school boy, always quick with his wit, a step ahead of everyone with regard to his nefarious plans. This Sebastian standing beside Kurt in line has none of those old snarky walls in place. This Sebastian is holding back, and for the first time ever Kurt is worried about the possibility of hurting his feelings.

They get their coffees and find a table with low, plush armchairs situated near the window. Reclining in the comfortable chair seems too informal for this particular conversation, so Kurt struggles to sit up straight, poised on the slanted edge. His legs knock together at the knees with the strain of keeping his body upright.

Why can't anything be easy?

Sebastian twirls his paper coffee cup in his hands, staring down at the white plastic lid, waiting.

Quite obviously waiting, so Kurt decides to cut to the chase.

"Why do you keep following me?" he asks.

Now it's his turn to wait.

Sebastian sighs and stops twirling his cup.

"Because I want to make sure you're alright."

Kurt's first instinct is to bring up the fact that Sebastian doesn't need to make sure he's alright because they're not technically friends, but the tight set of Sebastian's mouth, the way his eyes stay glued to his cup and the table and anything that will keep him from looking into Kurt's eyes, changes his mind.

"Don't worry about me," Kurt says, waving a hand in front of his face as if that simple dismissive movement can wipe away all of Sebastian's concerns. "I have more than my fair share of people keeping an eye on me."

"Yeah," Sebastian says around a wry chuckle. "I've seen how concerned they are. By the way, how is Blaine handling the 'Freshman Fifteen'? How is Rachel dealing with the boredom of getting the one thing she's always wanted? And what about those Wookie orgies I've heard so much about?"

Kurt doesn't know whether to run to his friends' defense or to laugh at Sebastian's insane accuracy. On the one hand, Sebastian just insulted his closest friends and his fiancé, and accurate or not he really doesn't have any right. Sebastian isn't a part of Kurt's inner circle. In fact, this whole conversation bordered on the ridiculous considering everything Sebastian has ever done to Kurt. Where did he get off being so judgmental about people who had stood by Kurt's side for years?

On the other hand, another part of Kurt can't help but agree. He expected to be handled with kid gloves when he got out of the hospital, but what he didn't expect was for everyone to get over it so quickly and pretty much ignore him, hoping that whatever problem still remained with Kurt would resolve itself.

Kurt is a big boy. He doesn't need someone to hold his hand everywhere he goes, but it would be nice if once in a while someone asked him what he needed.

Blaine's reaction to the whole situation confounds Kurt the most; Blaine who's been bullied and who had the shit beaten out of him for being gay. For heaven's sake, he had to change schools because of it. Blaine should understand on a deeper level than anyone the pain that Kurt is still going through.

Blaine had been moody and emotional for a couple of days. He slept with Kurt in his bed at the hospital. He sang to him. He held his hand.

Now, nothing. Kurt's scars hadn't yet faded and the main focus in their lives had veered back to worrying about Blaine's weight gain and other ever blooming aspects of his dwindling self-esteem.

The pain hasn't gone away yet for Kurt, but it's definitely done for Blaine.

A year after Blaine was beaten at Sadie Hawkins he almost didn't have the courage to join Kurt at Prom.

Is Kurt expected to get over being put in the hospital by bullies in a few short weeks?

"They're doing their best," is all Kurt can come up with to say. It might not be entirely true, but it is noncommittal on his part. He feels no need to condemn or condone the actions of his friends to Sebastian.

"Really?" Sebastian replies, his voice dripping enough sarcasm in that single word to freeze the whole of the Hudson River.

Kurt runs a hand through his hair. He didn't invite Sebastian out for coffee to fight, and if he has to be honest with himself he doesn't have the energy to defend people he's in no mood to defend.

"Look, tearing down my friends for what you perceive as faults does not explain why you feel the need to follow me around all over like a creeper, making sure I'm alright."

Kurt doesn't mean to snap, but he doesn't think it will matter. Sebastian is pretty much bulletproof in Kurt's eyes, so he indulges in doling out a pot shot of his own.

He immediately regrets it when he sees Sebastian flinch; barely noticeable, mostly around his eyes.

Years ago that would have felt like a victory.

Right now it feels hollow.

Sebastian sighs again, and Kurt thinks he's about to get up and leave, but instead he looks up from his cup, fixing Kurt with green eyes that seem pleading and slightly lost.

He swallows hard before he begins.

"Kurt, I've been living fine without you," he starts. "Not seeing you every day, not really talking to you, I've been okay. Great actually."

"Wow," Kurt deadpans, feeling strangely slighted. "Thanks."

Sebastian shakes his head, reconfiguring his thoughts, afraid of failing right out of the gate.

"That's because I knew you were safe," he continues quickly. "I thought you were happy, and if I believed that I could be content, even if you and I…" Sebastian stops; the thoughts he contemplates showing clear on his face, and Kurt catches them. His jaw drops, the color escaping his face before Sebastian begins again. "…even if you and I couldn't be together. But when I got that text from Blaine, when I found out you'd been hurt…my entire world stopped spinning."

Kurt holds his breath, unable to think of a word to say.

"Kurt," Sebastian says more softly, "I don't…this isn't easy…"

Sebastian grunts in frustration, hitting the table with his fist and pushing back in his chair.

This time Kurt leans forward and takes Sebastian's hand where it rests next to his cup. Sebastian's wary eyes stare at Kurt's hand in his, holding onto him lightly. Sebastian sits up straight and breathes in, trying to steady every urge his body has – to break free and leave, to hold Kurt's hand tighter, to pull him close.

He decides to go for broke and finish what he has to say, because if he doesn't when he has this chance, he'll find a thousand reasons not to tell him ever.

"So many times…" Sebastian begins again in a tone Kurt has never heard from him before. It's reserved and emotional; vaguely affectionate. "I wanted to tell you so many times exactly how I felt. I wanted to apologize for being an ass. I wanted to beg you to give me a chance."

"Why didn't you?" Kurt asks before he can lose his nerve.

Sebastian smiles sadly, daring to rub his thumb along Kurt's knuckles. Kurt stiffens, feeling that the polite thing to do would be to pull away, not to lead Sebastian on especially when he seems so vulnerable, but he doesn't want to. For reasons he can't explain, he wants to hold on longer.

"Because I was an asshole to you," Sebastian says, more to himself than to Kurt. "Because I didn't deserve a chance after the way I treated you. Because you were happy, and as much as I hated, I hated, _I hated_ that you were happy with Blaine and not with me, I didn't want to destroy what you have."

Kurt waits to see if there's more, but Sebastian clenches his teeth, not as if he's finished, but as if he's holding back what else he has to say.

"So, why tell me now?" Kurt shrugs. "Why after I have a fiancé, plans to be married? Why after all this time?"

Sebastian hesitates; the fact that Kurt hasn't pulled his hand from his grasp gives him strength, but try as he might he can't convince his brain – his cynical, sardonic brain – to say what he needs to say, so he closes his eyes and lets his heart take over.

"There was a second when I imagined what could happen if you pull that fucking messed up stunt again, you run to someone's rescue, only the next time the guys in the alley have a knife or a gun and they kill you, and Kurt, something inside me…died."

Sebastian shook his head and Kurt realizes he's also shaking away tears. He shifts back and Kurt holds his hand tight, afraid he might pull it away.

"I'm a coward," Sebastian admits. "All these years I've been nothing but a fucking coward. I spent my life trying not to think about you, and when I couldn't stop, I would come all the way down here just to bump into you and I risked nothing. Nothing at all. That's the fucked up way I treat someone I care about. But you…" Sebastian squeezes Kurt's hand tighter, "…you risked everything for someone you didn't even know. So if I couldn't at least make sure that you were okay, if I couldn't come here and tell you how I felt, then I would hate myself even more than I do now, every day for the rest of my life."

Sebastian slowly slips his hand out of Kurt's, and Kurt lets him go. Kurt tries to come up with something appropriate to say, but the words that spring to mind sound empty and platitudinous. Sebastian takes a sip of his coffee for the first time since they sat down and he grimaces.

It's bitter on his tongue and nearly ice cold.

Kurt looks down at his own coffee cup and pushes it aside.

"I don't know what to say," Kurt says honestly.

Sebastian props his elbows on the table and drops his head in his hands.

"Then don't say anything. Really. I didn't mean to dump all my shit in your lap like this, and the last thing I want is for you to try and come up with a way to let me down easy."

Kurt drops back in his chair.

That's exactly what he was trying to do, but not for the reasons Sebastian must think, but if Kurt can't explain it to himself, how is he going to explain it to Sebastian?

"Look," Kurt says, sitting back up in his chair, "how about this. What if we sort of start over again…as friends this time?"

Sebastian doesn't look up from where he has his head cradled in his hands, but groans loudly. Kurt reaches across the table and smacks him hard on the arm, laughing when Sebastian's arm falls out from under him and his head drops forward, hitting the table.

"Ow! Christ, Hummel!" Sebastian hisses, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "If that's how you treat your friends, I think I'll pass." But Sebastian is laughing, and when he looks at Kurt, he seems relaxed, like the weight of several years has been lifted from his shoulders.

"Come on," Kurt says, standing from the table and grabbing his cup, "I'm already late for class."

"Oh, I'm sure you can miss clown class or whatever you've got going."

Sebastian stands and grabs his cup as well. They pass by a trash can on their way out the door. Kurt pitches his undrunk coffee, but Sebastian keeps his, and Kurt grins. Sebastian holds the door open for Kurt again and they walk out onto the sidewalk, joining the crowd that swarms past.

"Are you going to keep following me around?" Kurt asks.

Sebastian shrugs, not meeting Kurt's eyes.

"Maybe," Sebastian says.

"You know you don't have to," Kurt says, stopping at the corner just as the light turns red. "I'll be fine."

"Maybe I'm not doing it for you." Sebastian presses the button for the light repeatedly, as if punching it over and over will make it change quicker. "Maybe I'm doing it for me."

Kurt nods. They cross against the light when a path clears and a swath of people make a break for the opposite side of the street.

"Okay," Kurt says. "Then instead why don't we walk together, since that seems like something friends would do. This way people won't think you're some kind of crazed stalker."

Sebastian rolls his eyes dramatically.

"God, you're clingy," Sebastian teases, but when he sees NYADA looming ahead of him, he frowns slightly. "But if you really want to, I guess we can."

"I would consider it a huge personal favor," Kurt teases back, shaking his head. He turns to the man looming beside him and Kurt considers the proper protocol for leaving now that Sebastian has revealed so much of himself. Should Kurt offer him a handshake? A hug? A pat on the back? Perform some complicated fist bump?

"Give me your phone," Sebastian says abruptly. Kurt startles but hands it over, burning with curiosity.

Sebastian takes the phone and starts punching in numbers. Kurt smirks at how long he takes.

"So, was this all just a ploy to get me to let you borrow my phone?" Kurt quips. Sebastian turns the phone back to him and Kurt takes it.

"That's my phone number," Sebastian says as Kurt reads the information on the screen, "my email, and the address to my apartment uptown. If you need anything…"

Sebastian lets the words drift away, but Kurt finishes for him.

"I'll call. I promise."

"Yeah," Sebastian says for lack of anything better. He backs away with a small wave.

"See ya later, Hummel," he says, and turns quickly on his heel.

Kurt watches Sebastian walk away until he's just another head of brown hair blending into the crowd, then looks back down at the screen, reading the information one more time before he locks his phone and puts it in his pocket. He heads to class and tries his best to push their conversation aside so he can concentrate on being a NYADA student.

* * *

Kurt works his way from his first class through to his last class completely on autopilot. He can't stop his mind from wandering back to his conversation with Sebastian. Everything he said replays in his mind like the scene of a play. He can't erase the memory of the emotions on Sebastian's face, how foreign and unsettling they were; or the way his voice almost cracked when he confessed to being an ass, to being scared…

…to wanting a chance with Kurt.

Kurt tries to replace those thoughts with images of Blaine. He tries to remember the last time he saw a similar look on Blaine's face, or the last time he heard that same desperate crack in his voice that comes with the thought of losing the one thing you want the most.

Aside from his recent trip to the hospital, Kurt's mind comes up completely blank.

Kurt can possibly admit it was there the day Blaine proposed to him, on the spiral staircase at Dalton, but Kurt often felt that speech sounded perfectly practiced, like he had said it hundreds of times to himself in the mirror, or maybe even in front of Sam, before he recited it to Kurt.

His morning with Sebastian occupies his thoughts all day long – sitting on the sofa watching _The Notebook_ with Blaine, eating Thai takeout for dinner, listening to Rachel and Mercedes while they jabber on about Mercedes's burgeoning relationship with Sam. Nothing that goes on in the loft around him is enough of a distraction to wipe it away.

Lying in bed with Blaine, Kurt feels tremendously and overwhelmingly guilty because his mind has stopped focusing on all the words Sebastian said and has zeroed in entirely on the comforting warmth of Sebastian's hand holding his.

"Blaine," Kurt says, stroking down his fiance's back with his fingertips while he continues to sort through things in his mind, "what did you think when you heard I was in the hospital?"

"I didn't know what to think," Blaine answers quietly. "I didn't know what had happened to you, and they wouldn't tell me anything..."

"No," Kurt interrupts gently. "I mean, how did you feel? Were you scared, were you angry, were you frightened?"

Blaine lies silently with his head on Kurt's chest, mulling over his feelings in his mind.

"Well, I was scared," he says, raising a hand to trace patterns over Kurt's t-shirt lightly with his nails. "I didn't want anything to happen to you. I mean, I love you. You're such a huge part of my life. I can't picture a future without you." Blaine shakes his head, banishing the memory of sitting by Kurt's hospital bed, holding his hand, hating himself, hating the world for not leaving them in peace. "Everything would change." Blaine sniffles, turning his face up to look at Kurt's; his eyes wet with new, unshed tears. "I don't think I could stay in New York without you. It would remind me too much of you. It would tear me apart if anything like that happened to you again."

Blaine's voice wavers, and Kurt's heart sinks for him. He holds him close and rocks him gently.

"Alright," Kurt murmurs soothingly. "Shhhh. It's alright. Everything's going to be okay."

He kisses Blaine's curls and hugs him tight until the sniffles die down and the few tears that dampen his shirt dry away. Blaine drifts to sleep in Kurt's arms, but Kurt stays awake, listening to Blaine breathe in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, finally putting his jumbled thoughts in order.

Kurt likes Blaine's answer. It's a good answer. It's the answer Kurt expected.

It just wasn't as good as Sebastian's.


	70. What Do I Want?

**A/N:** _Okay, so apparently I lied. This is going to be a five part story, not a four part story, but you guys don't mind, right? (Please say you don't mind…) Anyway, so here's my continuation in what I call my 'What…? series' This comes after 'What Should I Say?' This one is heavily influenced by the recent Glee episode '5X16 Tested' so warning for spoilers. Kurt and Sebastian spend more time together, and Kurt's starting to get a bit confused by his feelings, especially considering recent emotional turns of events with regard to Blaine. Warnings for talk of Klaine and Blaine, but I make up for it with what I think is a really cool bo fighting scene at the end. _

"So, what do you study that gives you all this free time to wander the city during the day?" Kurt asks, pulling apart his cronut and handing Sebastian half. Kurt originally felt guilty indulging in the one treat that had started Blaine on his landslide to his new found obsession with food, but he figures what Blaine doesn't know about his occasional food infidelities won't hurt him. Besides, better to snack behind Blaine's back then to rub it in his face.

Sebastian takes a bite of the still warm pastry and moans softly, chewing thoroughly before he answers.

This has become their ritual – coffee and cronuts on the way to NYADA. When they started walking together in the mornings they could only meet two days a week. Blaine struggled and struggled with his weight problem, with feelings of inadequacy and failure; but most of all with the idea of the beautiful, tortured, and slightly broken boy he had fallen head over heels for blossoming into a stronger, sexier, fiercely independent man. One evening he broke down into tears and told Kurt that he couldn't stand himself; couldn't cope with the person he had turned into, living in constant fear that one day Kurt would wake up and realize he didn't love him anymore.

Kurt felt the weight of that confession like a rock in his stomach. He reassured Blaine that he would always love him, but his words of acceptance and affection didn't seem to work the magic he had hoped. So from that moment on Kurt devoted himself to helping his fiancé lose weight which meant early morning jogs three days a week, but sometimes the dark alleys they would cut through brought back difficult memories for Kurt, and he signed them up for memberships to a local gym instead.

Things went fine in the beginning. Better than fine. Even though Blaine is usually the first one up to make Kurt breakfast, Kurt is really the consummate morning person in the relationship, especially when it comes to waking up before five in the morning. Kurt would roll Blaine out of bed, slap him into his tank top and sweats, and drag him down to Crunch Fitness for morning cardio.

Kurt took boxing lessons with Blaine, letting Blaine help him with his punches and his stance. In turn, Blaine joined Kurt for a spin class. They would pretend they were racing through Central Park, and tried to slap each other surreptitiously when the instructor wasn't watching, which she always was, and she scowled at them with a tiny smile on her lips. One day out of the week they dedicated to the machines and weights - walking side-by-side on the treadmills, spotting each other at the bench.

Their mornings together at the gym were reminiscent of being teenaged lovebirds back at McKinley (or Dalton) again. There was no stress, no insecurities (believe it or not). It was fun and carefree. Kurt would look at Blaine as he attacked the punching bag, focused, determined, fitter and trimmer than he had ever seen him and think, "There he is. That's the Blaine I fell in love with."

Kurt felt happy. He had finally found the balance he longed for so much. He had the man of his dreams back from the dark void of depression, had made an amazing new friend to boot, and the problems he and Blaine did have were quickly on the mend because they were starting anew – open and honest, with lots of genuine conversation and intimate moments together.

That is until they started going to the gym a few afternoons after school.

The gym at four in the afternoon when it's nearly jam-packed is a different universe compared to the gym at five in the morning when it's empty and only a handful of tired, dedicated people show up to run on the treadmill and generally ignore everyone else around them.

Their membership gave them access to a personal trainer, and Kurt decided to take advantage of it, needing some guidance since he wanted to keep his leaner physique and not suddenly bulk up the way he feared he might be. Guns were fine, but he wanted to keep his armory low-key.

Seth, his trainer, was a sweet, intelligent, flattering man, who was passionate about his job and liked to flirt; but even without a ring on his finger Seth wasn't really Kurt's type. Kurt didn't pay much attention to his flirting. He was polite and attentive and made it clear during their first session together that he had a fiancé and Seth got the hint. From then on out they had a professional trainer/trainee relationship. Seth eventually handed Kurt over to George, a trainer who worked with a few members from the New York City Ballet Company, and Kurt found out they had a lot in common.

It was nice talking to people with similar interests outside of school and the loft. He was beginning to feel like a shut-in with regard to his social circles, like he was locked into two sects and would never be able to function in the real world. He never thought that making new friends would be a problem, especially not now that he and Blaine had gone through so many stages of personal growth.

But Blaine became sullen and moody and competitive all over again. It's not that Blaine didn't get his own fair share of attention, but the harem of admirers that Kurt had collected Blaine found hard to stomach. They fought more and more, and Blaine protested by being literally immoveable when the alarm went off at four until the morning workouts stopped altogether and the cronuts came back. In the end Kurt and Blaine decided that it would be better if they went to the gym separately – Kurt by himself when he found the time, and Blaine with Sam in tow to keep him on track.

In the meantime, Kurt had to go back to the start; searching for the balance, peace, and happiness he had lost.

He started walking with Sebastian more and more, and when he did he realized how much he had missed it.

"I'm actually double-majoring in corporate finance and forensic accounting," Sebastian replies when he swallows his bite. "Some of my classes are independent study and the rest of them are in the afternoon."

Kurt's fingers stop where they dangle a piece of pastry in front of his lips.

"Wow," Kurt says with genuine awe. "That sounds fascinating…and hard. Shouldn't you be studying, like, all the time?"

"No, not really." Sebastian finishes off his cronut and sucks the glaze off his fingertips. Kurt's eyes go wide and he turns away, focusing on the sidewalk ahead of them, on his Docs as his feet roll across the dirty pavement to keep from staring at Sebastian's lips. "I'm ahead in all my classes. In fact, I'm closer to being considered a sophomore than a freshman at the moment."

"How did you swing that?" Kurt mumbles from behind his hand as he chews the last bit of his cronut.

"A lot of hard work." Sebastian shrugs, sounding surprisingly humble. "I've been working towards it since my junior year of high school. I took online courses over the summers, got my gen eds out of the way, took a few core classes, got credit for some higher level electives I took at Dalton, and interned over the interim break."

"Uh, okay. Color me impressed." Kurt shakes his head, trying to fit the picture of this hardworking, ambitious man with the wise ass that made his life miserable so many times.

"Why?" Sebastian side-eyes Kurt, bumping him with his shoulder. "Did you think I was just a pretty face and a tight ass?"

Kurt rolls his eyes and bumps Sebastian back.

"I guess I didn't think you'd be working on the right side of the justice system," Kurt teases.

"Well, I can't spend all of my time running around like a cartoon villain, causing all sorts of comical mayhem everywhere I go."

Kurt chuckles, biting it back when he notices Sebastian look at him and smile – not his usual crooked smirk; but the soft, vulnerable curl of his lips that Kurt rarely gets the privilege to see, and Kurt realizes he might have been flirting. He can't help it though. He's so comfortable around Sebastian. He feels freer talking to Sebastian. He knows that whatever he says to Sebastian will stay between the two of them. Kurt's successes or fears or even his anger won't tear apart Sebastian's self-esteem or completely derail his life. Most important of all, Sebastian doesn't judge, which took some getting used to, all things considered.

They cross the street in silence, Kurt draining what's left of his coffee and pitching the cup into a trashcan outside the doors of the school. Sebastian rolls up his sleeve and looks at his watch, squinting down to read the face.

"Is it just me, or are we here earlier than normal?" Sebastian asks. He holds the door open for Kurt who steps inside, and Sebastian follows, holding on to every opportunity he gets to talk to Kurt before he needs to leave and take the lonely train ride to the NYU campus.

"Yeah, well, I signed up for an extra stage combat lesson to hone my bo staff skills," Kurt says, leading Sebastian through the halls.

"I thought you took stage combat with Blaine," Sebastian recalls from an earlier conversation.

"The last time we sparred in class together, he tried to lobotomize me," Kurt explains. "Besides, it's not an official class, per se."

By the time they arrive to the correct classroom it's already full of students hanging around the perimeter, talking and whispering, or lightly sparring, working on footwork and switching between holds. Kurt glances up at the clock on the wall.

"Good," he says, dropping his bag in an unoccupied corner and unbuttoning his peacoat, "I've still got a few minutes."

Sebastian watches Kurt take off his coat and lay it out carefully over his messenger bag. He unzips his hoodie, peeling it down his arms and Sebastian sucks in a breath at the sight of the tight tank top underneath – ribbed and black and covering precious little in comparison to the clothes Kurt usually wears, which might be tight as sin but show no skin.

And Kurt's skin – that pale, creamy, flawless skin – makes Sebastian's tongue tingle and his mouth water.

Kurt's eyes flick up just as Sebastian has the good sense to look away, as luck would have it, in the direction of two students heading their way, dressed in similar workout clothes as Kurt, holding a bo staff in hand and wearing matching wolfish grins.

"Hello, Kurt," the first man says, his words curling with the hint of a Colombian accent. "Care to introduce us to your yummy friend?"

Kurt looks between the two men blocking their path and smiles politely – pink lips stretched tight over white teeth with no sincerity.

Kurt turns to Sebastian and gestures to the two students, starting with the tanned-skin man who first spoke.

"Sebastian," he says, "this is Carlos and Lalo. Lalo, Carlos, this is Sebastian."

Sebastian looks over both men with a nod and a brief, "Hello." Carlos is tall with a dancer's build and extremely defined arms (though Sebastian thinks maybe Carlos is overcompensating for something through bicep curls). Lalo is much tanner than Carlos and his shaved head shows a couple of weeks' worth of dark stubble. He turns to his companion and shares a knowing smile.

"Did you come to join our class today?" Lalo asks. "Or is Kurt giving you _private_ lessons?"

Carlos titters in a distinctly un-masculine fashion, and Kurt bites his tongue from the twenty or so comebacks lined up in his head, begging to lash out.

"Is he good enough to give lessons?" Sebastian asks. Kurt can detect that teasing Smythe tone in the undercurrent of his smooth, charming voice and Kurt sighs. Somehow he sees himself paying for bringing Sebastian to class today.

"Good? He's the best in our class by far." Carlos gushes dramatically.

"Is that so?" Sebastian drawls, turning to face Kurt who stares pointedly back, hands on hips, a dangerous challenge in his blue-grey eyes. "Are you going to show me how you use your stick, Hummel?" Sebastian slips off his coat to a softly murmured chorus of ooo's and whispered catcalls, and without looking around the room Kurt can tell all eyes are on them. He turns his face up to the ceiling and groans, sweeping his head around and locking eyes with his instructor. He motions to Sebastian.

"Can I…"

"Just remember…" the severe upper classman says with an affirmative nod, "safety first, safety last, safety always."

Kurt walks to the bo staff rack, ignoring the amused expression on Sebastian's face as he watches him saunter by to grab the last staff.

"Crap," Kurt mutters, looking around the room for an abandoned staff anywhere.

"Here," Carlos rushes forward, bypassing Kurt and heading straight for Sebastian, "you can borrow mine."

"Uh, thanks," Sebastian says, trying to take the staff from the eager man who will simply not let go, staring up at Sebastian with adoring heart eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Kurt says, wedging his bo staff between them. "Back away, Carlos."

Kurt walks off toward the center of the room, Sebastian following close behind.

"You've got some interesting classmates here," he whispers into Kurt's ear, aware that the acoustics of the room will probably amplify any sound.

"Don't tell me there aren't any hopelessly smitten braniacs following you around at your school wherever you go, probably carrying your books between classes, taking notes for you, offering to do your homework assignments."

"I plead the fifth," Sebastian jokes, stopping a few feet from Kurt, bo staff in hand. One look at Kurt, poised to begin, and Sebastian knows he's about to be owned, but he can at least try to put up a good fight.

"Okay, let's work on your stance first," Kurt says, walking behind Sebastian, manipulating arms and legs to get them where they should be. "We work with four main stances, but for now let's just deal with one. The Front Stance. Bend your front knee, straighten your back knee, square your shoulders, and…there."

Kurt walks back around to appraise Sebastian's stance, and a polite applause rises around the room.

"See? They think you look good."

"What took them so long?" Sebastian mocks, trying to hide the fact that he feels mildly self-conscious. It's been so long since he performed anything, he can feel his arms shake with a touch of stage fright.

"It's okay," Kurt says softly, using their close proximity as he adjusts Sebastian's hands on the staff as an excuse to talk to him privately. "Once we get started, you'll forget all about them."

Kurt smiles at Sebastian and Sebastian nods, his heart racing with every touch of Kurt's hand, every brush of his skin against any exposed area of Kurt's body. What should seem so innocent is quickly becoming the biggest turn on of Sebastian's life.

"Now, we use three different holds," Kurt instructs, sliding Sebastian's hands over the staff. "The Normal Hold you'll use most of the time, but widen your grip for blocking."

"You better get used to that one," Carlos calls out, and a spattering of giggles and snickers work their way around the room in a wave.

Sebastian's eyes snap up, but Kurt walks into his field of vision.

"Focus on me," he says. "Don't worry about them. They're not even here. It's just you and me. Alright?"

Sebastian sighs and relaxes at the soothing sound of Kurt's voice trying so hard to keep Sebastian grounded.

"Okay, Sifu Kurt," Sebastian says. "What do you want me to do?"

"It would actually be Sensei Kurt," Kurt says with a chuckle. "Bo fighting is Japanese, not Chinese."

"Ah." Sebastian's legs tremble in the uncomfortable stance they are locked in, but he's determined to stay how Kurt put him, though he realizes if he moves and breaks his stance Kurt would have to fix him again. For the sake of not re-igniting his fading hard-on he decides to stay put.

"We use five basic strikes, but I think we'll be safe with two. The Overhead Front Strike…" Kurt says with a quick demonstration, bring the staff down over Sebastian's head, grinning when Sebastian's reflexes kick in and he blocks the blow, keeping his grip wide. Sebastian hears several students applaud again.

"Good job," Kurt says, and Sebastian's cheeks color despite his efforts not to become too affected by Kurt's praise. "You're going to follow that up with a 4-Point Strike." Kurt attacks again, moving the staff up and down, then side to side, with Sebastian rushing to keep up. Sebastian manages to block all four shots, but the tip of Kurt's bo grazes Sebastian's forehead, ruffling his hair.

"Great," Kurt says, standing in his own Front Stance, which looks vastly more stable than Sebastian's at the moment. "So, why don't you go ahead and just come at me?"

"What?" Sebastian chokes out. "Are you shitting me?"

"There's no better way to learn than to try."

Sebastian shakes his head, regretting getting himself into this position. He already feels the sweat rolling down his spine and he hasn't even really moved yet.

"Lunge forward, and then return to your stance."

"While trying to hit a moving target," Sebastian gripes.

"I'm not going anywhere," Kurt says, and more ooo's travel the room.

Sebastian stutters forward once or twice, partially out of nerves but also not quite willing to bring his bo staff down on Kurt's head, or try since he's certain Kurt's not about to let him land a hit. Sebastian lurches forward spasmodically, bringing the staff over his head with as much strength as he can muster. With barely any energy exerted, Kurt blocks the blow, a loud snap like a firecracker exploding reverberating around the room when the two sticks make contact. With a spin of his staff, Kurt knocks Sebastian's out of his hands and sends it skittering across the floor.

"That's no fair!" Sebastian whines. "You didn't teach me that move."

"You don't need to know the move to defend against it," Kurt returns sagely. "If you had drawn back your staff quicker, I wouldn't have had time to disarm you."

Sebastian grumbles, chasing his staff as it continues to roll, bumping it repeatedly with the toe of his shoe and sending it bouncing along. Carlos stops it with the side of his foot in order to let Sebastian catch up.

"Thanks," Sebastian mutters, bending over to grab the wayward stick and jogs back to his sparring partner. He recreates a lopsided version of his original stance, and waits for Kurt's instruction.

"Okay," Kurt says, renewing his own stance. "I won't do that again. Come at me, and I'll block. This way you get the feel of striking something."

Negligibly more confident after that first initial strike, he lunges at Kurt again, and again Kurt blocks with such little effort you would think he is swatting at mosquitoes and not fending off an attack. Sebastian tries the Overhead Front Strike followed by the 4 Point Strike like Kurt showed him, but when those fail Sebastian starts making up random blows, doing anything to knock Kurt off his guard, but Carlos was right – Kurt is amazing.

After a few minutes, Sebastian is bent over panting, his face red, sweat clinging to his hair, while Kurt stands perfectly composed and waits for Sebastian to recover.

"So…" Sebastian pants, "is this how you spar with Blaine? He attacks and you defend?"

The question is a relatively simple one, but as Kurt tries to think of a way to answer, it hits him. That's not just how they spar. That pretty much describes their whole relationship.

"Not all the time," Kurt says, knowing it's not entirely true. There's a catch in Kurt's voice and Sebastian hears it. He straightens up with a deep breath to calm himself, wiping the sweat off his brow with the cuff of his long-sleeved tee.

"Why don't we flip the script a little, and you come at me," Sebastian suggests.

Kurt raises an eyebrow and laughs condescendingly. It's sassy and sharp and everything that Sebastian had hoped to hear.

"You want me to attack you?" Kurt clarifies.

"Why not?" Sebastian swivels left to right, cracking his back. "I mean, don't try to kill me, of course, but show me the full power of a Kurt Hummel onslaught."

Kurt doesn't move, staring at Sebastian as if he's gone completely nuts, twirling his bo staff from hand to hand as he considers his offer.

Sebastian walks up to Kurt, leans in close and says, "You can pretend I'm Blaine."

That is the turning point; the thing that changes his mind. Kurt isn't a pushover, but he could never seem to take out the full measure of his anger on Blaine in class. Blaine would never be able to take it.

But Sebastian can handle it, and to top it off, he's asking for it.

Kurt eyes Sebastian as he repositions himself in front of Kurt, grinning from ear to ear with the bo staff blocking the upper half of his body. Kurt positions himself, too, and tries to concentrate. He tries to picture Blaine the last time they sparred in class, when he came at Kurt, when he tried to hurt him, or maybe just tried to embarrass him. They never discussed it so Kurt didn't know for sure, but Kurt almost hated him for it.

Kurt twirls the staff one last time in front of him, and with not a single move to telegraph his intentions, he brings it down over his head with such force Sebastian thinks his own paltry staff will snap in half. Kurt sighs and smiles, tremendous satisfaction vibrating through his body from the backlash of the blow. It feels good, in a cathartic and nearly erotic kind of way. Kurt repeats the blow, and Sebastian is quicker to block, but he still stumbles backward. He's tired out from the dozen or so strikes he delivered, and from the look in Kurt's eyes Sebastian can tell he's nowhere near done.

Kurt advances quickly. Sebastian's muscles strain to grip the bo staff, backing away to dodge Kurt's staff and when he can't, simply waving the thing feebly left and right to avoid Kurt's blows. The students in the classroom cheer, and if he could make his facial muscles do anything but tense up in anticipation of a slap across the face, Sebastian would smile, because when Sebastian looks at Kurt, Kurt looks alive. No longer caged by that prison of mediocrity they call Lima, Ohio. Kurt has found the place where he belongs. He's in his element here. Not a punching bag at McKinley or the possessively titled but otherwise anonymous 'Blaine's boyfriend' at Dalton. He is a shining star at one of the most prestigious performing art schools on the whole of the east coast…and he's currently kicking Sebastian's ass.

Sebastian feels his back collide with the wall and he knows he's done for. Kurt knocks Sebastian's knuckles, not too hard but hard enough to smart like hell, and Sebastian reflexively drops his staff. Kurt takes advantage of Sebastian's moment of distraction and pins him, his staff pressed up against Sebastian's neck, pushing his chin up enough to make it hard for Sebastian to breathe.

"So, what do you think of the way I handle my stick now, Smythe?" Kurt asks, panting heavily against Sebastian's neck.

Sebastian swallows and Kurt can see his Adam's Apple bob above the staff.

"I think you do pretty well, Hummel," Sebastian admits. Kurt lowers his staff and passes it off to Carlos, who rushed amid the fray to collect his own dropped staff, hovering around longer than necessary to try and catch any gossip-worthy snippets of forbidden conversation.

Sebastian stares at Kurt in a way that's both captivating and disarming with its raw heat and Kurt forces himself to turn away.

"A penny for your thoughts," Kurt says, trying to calm the flush in his cheeks, hoping for some snarky remark to bring them back from this charged tension to something that Kurt knows how to handle.

When Kurt ventures a glance back, the heat in Sebastian's eyes is still there, growing in intensity, raising the temperature of the air around them.

"God, Kurt, I really want to kiss you right now."

Kurt steps back involuntarily, stumbling over his feet in the process, righting himself before he tumbles to the floor.

Kurt sees the look on Sebastian's face change immediately, his eyes cooling, shifting left and right nervously, lips fumbling over an apology.

"Kurt, I'm sorry…I…"

"Mr. Hummel," the instructor calls from the far corner of the classroom, "if you're done serving your attractive friend, I would like to get started with the lesson now."

"You're not gay, Steve," Lalo quips back.

"That doesn't mean I can't appreciate a handsome man, Lalo," Steve returns flatly.

Sebastian steps away from the wall, still trying desperately to apologize, but Kurt grabs his arm and silences him.

"It's okay," Kurt says. "Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?" Sebastian sighs with relief. "Because I don't want…"

"Just…forget it," Kurt says, shaking his head. "It's fine. I really need to get ready for class, though, so…I'll see you later?"

Sebastian's entire face transforms, and all at once the man that Kurt is used to seeing, the more mature man with his boyish quick wit and patented snark, returns.

"What? Did you think an impromptu ass whooping was going to scare me away?" Sebastian winks with a click of his tongue. "You're not getting rid of me that easy."

Sebastian lingers a breath longer with Kurt's hand wrapped around his arm, and then backs away, heading for the door. Kurt watches Sebastian leave, his eyes trailing him when he turns at the doorway with a crooked smile and a wave, but when he rounds the corner into the hall and disappears Kurt feels heavy, and a little hollow. He hears an exaggerated sniffing sound travel over his right ear, then behind his back to his left ear. He spins around to see a grinning Lalo shaking his head.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asks with a twinge of disgust at the thought of this man smelling him.

"Oh, I'm just curious if it's some kind of pheromone cologne you're wearing," the man says, his brown eyes smiling.

"What?" Kurt repeats, still not quite sure what he's getting at.

"Yeah," Carlos agrees, joining them from the hall where he got the honor of the final glimpse of Sebastian before he left the building, "or are you wearing diamond encrusted undies. What is your secret that you've got all these hot guys wrapped around your fingers?" Carlos wiggles his fingers in front of his face for emphasis as he sashays up beside Lalo, whose arms are crossed over his muscular chest.

"Sebastian's a friend," Kurt says in his defense. "He's not wrapped around my finger."

"Like hell he's not," Lalo says, turning back toward the door as though Sebastian would pop back in at the mention of his name. "That man has it bad for you, Hummel."

Kurt thrills and despises the way his heart falters at the thought of Sebastian wanting him. Kurt knows he does. Sebastian told him, but hearing it from someone else, someone not inclined to cloud the truth, makes it seem all the more real.

"He's not mine," Kurt says, with a touch of longing that he can't hide.

"Well, then can I have him?" Carlos asks, his wide eyes hopeful. "That man can borrow my bo stick any time."

Kurt doesn't know where the strange possessive streak comes from, but it rears its head full force, and Kurt leans in to Carlos's face.

"No."


End file.
